IN THE HANDS OF THE DERVISHES
I was handed over to two men, who were held responsible for my
well-being; Hasseena and Elias were placed together in the charge of
others, and we were ordered to seat ourselves a little distance away.
The dervishes had with them military tents which must have been taken
at Khartoum, and one was soon pitched. Here the Emirs and principal
men met to hold a conference and inquiry. Darb es Safai and others
were taken up one by one, and the question put to them direct, “Where
are the rifles and the cartridges?” for no case had, of course, been
brought on with us to the wells. They denied any knowledge of them;
then replied Farag, “We will find them for you, and show you how they
are used.” My turn came, and in reply to the usual question, I said
that I knew nothing at all about them; questioned still further, I
admitted that I had seen a number of boxes, but I could not pretend to
know what was inside of them. Asked then as to where they were, I said
I could not tell—in the desert somewhere; they had been thrown away,
as the camels, being tired and |30| thirsty, could not carry them any
longer. Still interrogated, I replied that the guide who had brought us
here was the first killed in the firing, and that I did not think any
one else of our caravan could find their way back to the place where
the boxes were left.
At this, rapid glances were passed from one to the other. Asked if I
was sure he was killed, I could only reply that my clerk had told me
so, that I had seen him fall, and indicated the place. Farag sent off
a man in that direction after whispering some instructions to him, and
during the few minutes he was away perfect silence reigned in the tent,
with the exception of the click, click of the beads of the _Sibha_
(rosary). When he returned, he whispered his reply to Farag. Two of
the Alighat Arabs who had joined us at Wadi Halfa were next brought
up and questioned; they did not give direct replies; they were taken
aside, but not far enough away to prevent my overhearing part of what
went on, when, as a result of promises and then threats, I gathered
that they undertook to lead the dervishes to the spot where the cases
had been left in the desert. It is quite certain, from the questions
put by the dervishes, that they were ignorant of the precise spot where
the baggage had been left, and it in a measure confirmed the death of
Hassan; but I have always had a suspicion that the man shammed death
and got away, to present himself later on to Nejoumi. He might easily
have mingled with the dervishes and not been seen by us.
The sun had now set; the conference ended, and orders were given by
Farag for all to march back by |31| the route we had come, the Alighat
Arabs, with Amin between them, leading. We marched for only an hour
or so, for our camels, being tired and not having been watered, gave
trouble. A halt was called for the night, and what water the dervishes
had was partly distributed. By sunrise the next day we were on the
march again, twenty-five men, well mounted, having been sent on in
advance with the guides. All Saleh’s men, wounded and sound, were
compelled to walk, the dervishes and their wounded riding on camels.
In the afternoon we reached the spot where we had left the four men in
charge of the baggage, to find them with their hands bound behind them.
The advance party had reached them about ten o’clock in the morning,
and had doubtless found them asleep, as no shots had been fired. The
men were not to be blamed in any way, and it really mattered but little
whether they were asleep or awake when taken, with the odds against
them. I had, on starting for the wells, left them the little water I
had saved; had they not had this, they could not have slept.
In the same way that Saleh’s men had forgotten everything in that mad
rush for the water, so did the dervishes break loose, forget all about
their prisoners, and rush on the pile of cases. The ground was soon
littered with rifles, packets of ammunition, sugar, clothing, food,
and the hundred and one articles to be found in a trading caravan,
for the cases and bales of the Arabs who had joined us at Wadi Halfa
contained only merchandise. My mind was soon made up; running towards
the other prisoners with my |32| hunting-knife, I thought that at all
events the thongs of a few might be cut, and making for the camels and
scattering in different directions, a few might have got clear. It was
a mad idea, but it was something. Before any part of my half-formed
plan could be put into execution, the guards were down on us. I was
taken to the Emir, Said Wad Farag, but I excused myself, saying that,
being a medical man, I had gone to see if I could attend to any of the
wounded. Complimenting me on my thought for the others, he recommended
me to think of myself, appropriated the knife the guards had found in
my hand, and told me he would let me know when to use it, warning me at
the same time not to attempt to speak to any of the other prisoners.
When the excitement over the loot had cooled down a little, a camel was
killed in honour of the occasion, and my servant Hasseena was ordered
to prepare some of the dishes. I was invited to eat with the Emirs.
Our first dish was the raw liver of the camel, covered with salt and
shetta—a sort of red pepper. I had seen this dish being eaten, but had
never partaken of it myself before. I had two reasons for eating it
now: first, I was hungry and thirsty; secondly, one of the first signs
of fear is a disinclination, I might say inability, to swallow food,
and fear of my captors was the last thing I intended to exhibit. After
the meal, my clothes were taken from me, as they looked upon them as
the dress of a kaffir, and I was turned out into the night-air with
my singlet, drawers, and socks as my complete wardrobe. My turban and
Baghdad |33| Kofiyeh were also taken, so that I was bareheaded into
the bargain.
When the dervishes had finished their food, and before they lay down
for the night, the Emir Farag sent for all the loot to be collected
and brought before his tent, when it would later on be distributed
according to the rules of the Beit-el-Mal (Treasury). This institution
and its working will be described later. Only a part of the loot was
collected, for the men, knowing from experience the extraordinary
manner in which loot “shrank” in bulk and numbers when placed in the
hands of the Emirs to be distributed according to rule, concealed in
the sand or beneath their jibbehs, whatever could be hidden there. The
pipes and tobacco found in the baggage were burned, as their use was
prohibited by the Mahdi. Amongst my things was found my letter-wallet,
and this was handed to the Emirs, who afterwards sent for me and
demanded to know the contents of the letters. I replied that they were
only business documents, receipts for goods, and such like, but that
if the wallet was handed to me, I would translate each document. Being
satisfied with this answer, Farag kept the wallet. Complaining of my
clothing having been taken, he allowed me to have my flannel shirt,
and gave me a piece of rag as head-dress. In this guise, I lay down
in the sand to doze and wake the whole night through, conscious yet
unconscious, with the incidents of the last eighteen days chasing each
other through my brain.
The camp was astir long before sunrise, and by sunrise we were on the
move east towards El Kab, |34| which we reached about three o’clock
in the afternoon. The “wells,” at the part we arrived at, are upon
ascending ground; but the name “well” in this instance is a misnomer.
They are shallow basins scooped out with the hands or any rough
implement, the water being found about three feet below the surface,
shrubs indicating where to scoop. The camels were watered and left to
graze on the scanty herbage. Another camel was killed to celebrate the
capture of the caravan, and again I was invited to take food with the
Emirs. I was asked only the most commonplace questions, but I could not
get any reply to those I put, except that Abdel Rahman Wad en Nejoumi
would tell me all I wished to know. While still with the Emirs, Farag
called up his followers again, and after congratulating them upon
the capture of the “English Pasha” and the caravan (though the Emir
knew very well who I was, from old days at Korti), he harangued them
on the advisability of obeying to the letter the orders of the Mahdi
transmitted to the Khaleefa, and by the Khaleefa to him, winding up
his oration with threats of punishment and imprisonment to any of the
faithful who robbed the Beit-el-Mal by concealing any of the loot,
after which he ordered every one to be searched again. I had many
opportunities later of seeing evidences of what the Emirs most relied
upon, in regard to the handing over of any loot—an exhortation to their
followers, and an appeal to their religious scruples—or threats of
punishment and imprisonment. Both went together, and were administered
in the order I have given them, and there was seldom an |35| occasion
when a search did not follow the appeal to their honesty, and when
punishment did not follow the search for concealed loot.
Wad Farag dismissed me for the night, but I had hardly lain down when
two dervishes stole up, and asked me to describe all the baggage I
had with me. I said that a list would be found in my wallet, which,
if they would bring to me, would allow of me giving them the required
information. One left me, for the purpose, I imagine, of asking the
Emir for the wallet, but returned shortly saying that I should _have_
to remember, and that the list I then gave would be compared with the
list in the wallet. There was no list in the wallet, but there were one
or two letters I wished to extract. I have thought since that, had I
exhibited less anxiety to get hold of the wallet itself, I might have
induced them to hand over these letters under one pretext or another. I
soon discovered from their questions that the dervishes were spying one
upon the other, for they asked me directly what were the contents of
the bag taken from Elias my clerk. I told them three hundred dollars,
gold and silver jewellery, and some jewellery which my servant Hasseena
had asked Elias to carry for her. Hasseena was sent for to describe her
jewellery. The information evidently gave these men huge satisfaction,
and taking Hasseena with them, they sent her back with cooking
utensils, food and firewood, and ordered her to prepare food for me.
Having had my food with the Emirs but a little time before, I was at
a loss to understand the meaning of this, but learned later on |36|
that it was to prevent any one else approaching her for information.
Whether these two men were, as they said, in charge of the Beit-el-Mal,
or whether, having seen any of the money or jewellery, they wanted to
get their share of it, I cannot say, but, in the light of subsequent
events, I should be inclined to believe the latter.
When the food was ready, I invited my guards to eat it. I was hoping
that a full meal, especially as their fatigue was very evident, would
induce them to sleep, and feigning drowsiness myself, moved off a few
yards, and scooped out a sand bed. I was prepared to risk anything for
liberty; we were in the neighbourhood of the wells, and might travel
for days without being out of reach of water. Explaining my plans to
Hasseena, I told her, under the pretence of collecting firewood, to try
and get up to Amin and Elias, cut their thongs with the large knife we
had had to cut up the meat sent us for food, and tell them to creep
towards a small tree which I had noticed during daylight, and await
me there. Some camels with their feet fastened by ropes were grazing
there, and I believed that we might get away unobserved, and get some
hours’ start. But the guards of the prisoners were not asleep; they
were very much awake, searching the prisoners for any valuables, an
operation which was carried out by each relief of guards, so that the
sun rose with us still in the hands of the dervishes.
[Illustration: THE KHALEEFA’S EUNUCHS AT ATTENTION.]
It was just after sunrise that we moved off again; my guardian must
have been impressed with my importance, for he saddled the camel for me
himself, and |37| brought me a gourd of camel’s milk. During this
day’s journey, the Emir Mohammad Hamza, of the Jaalin tribe, who was
commanding a section of the dervishes, rode up to me and inquired about
my health—the usual form of salutation. He told me not to be afraid of
any harm coming to me, and then rode off again. That evening we arrived
at a small encampment of dervishes close to some wells, when I was
taken before another Emir whom I was told was Makin en Nur, and who,
from the deference paid him by the others, was doubtless the chief.
He, too, put a few questions to me of the same commonplace nature as
the others, and waved his hand for me to be removed. On being sent for
again, I was accused of being a Government spy, and asked what I had
to say for myself. I replied, “I have told you the truth; what do you
want me to do now? tell you a lie, and say I _am_ a spy? If I do so
you will kill me for saying I am one, and if I say again I am _not_,
you will not believe me, and kill me just the same. I am not afraid of
you; do as you please.” When he questioned me again, I said, “I refuse
to answer any more questions.” My manner of speaking to them caused
no little surprise, as it was doubtless different to what they had
expected, and to what they had formerly experienced from captives.
A young dervish was called in, and told to conduct me to a spot
removed from the other prisoners. As we walked along, the youth said,
“God is just; God is bounteous; please God to-morrow our eyes shall
be gladdened by seeing a white Kaffir yoked with |38| a shayba to
a black one.” This shayba is the forked limb of a tree; the fork is
placed on the neck pressing against the larynx, the stem projecting
before the wearer; the right wrist is then tightly bound to the stem
with thongs of fresh hide, which soon dry and “bite” the flesh, and the
ends of the fork drawn as closely together as possible, and fastened
with a cross-piece. It is a cruel instrument of torture, for the arm
must be kept extended to its utmost; to attempt to relieve the tension
means pressure on the larynx; but when yoked to another man he throws
pressure on you, and you on him. A prod in the ribs under the arm of
either victim, with sword or rifle, affords endless amusement to their
tormentors in the victims’ gapes and grimaces as they gasp for breath;
but the captor’s cup of happiness is filled when an extra hard prod
knocks one man off his feet, and the poor wretches are only helped up
again when they are almost choking.
Irritated beyond endurance by the youth’s jibes and jests, and hoping
to put an end to everything at once, I threw my weight and strength
into one blow—and I was a powerful man then—and felled him senseless.
Taking his rifle, I strode back to the tent, almost foaming with rage,
and entered; my eyes must have been blazing; I glared from one to the
other, wondering whether to fire the one shot and then start “clubbing”
until I was cut down. Hamza was the first to speak, and jumping up,
held up his hand, saying, “Istanna” (wait). I hurriedly related what
had occurred, and said what I intended to do. Hamza |39| came to me,
saying, “La, la, la (no, no, no), there must be a mistake. You are not
to be put in a shayba; our orders are to deliver you alive and well.”
Then turning to the others, he continued, “Hand this man over to me;
I shall deliver him alive and well to Wad en Nejoumi; I hold myself
responsible for him.” Some demur was made, when, lowering the rifle,
I placed the butt on the ground, rested my chin on the muzzle, and
addressing myself to all, said that unless I was left in Hamza’s charge
I should press the trigger—on which my great toe was then resting.
Hamza again pressed his point, and said, “If you do not agree, and
this man does any harm to himself, I declare myself free of blame and
responsibility. I have heard of him; he will do as he says.” The effect
of the words was magical. “Take him away—keep him; do what you wish
with him; never let him come near us again—never. Never let him look
upon us with his eyes.”[2]
[2] The Soudanese, indeed all Easterns, have a great horror of
the “Evil Eye;” and the grey and grey-blue eyes of Europeans
in anger, or even in a fixed stare, as I learned later, strike
fear, if not terror, into the hearts of most.
Hamza, turning to me, said, “You must know now that our master, Wad en
Nejoumi, knew of your coming, and sent us to conduct you to him. His
orders were that you should be treated well; he wishes to speak to you.
I will give you security until Dongola, where he is waiting for you. I
do not know what he will do with you; maybe he will kill you—I cannot
say; but, for myself, I promise you will arrive in Dongola alive. If
anything happens to you, the Emir Wad en Nejoumi will kill me. Will you
|40| promise that you will leave yourself in my hands, will not try
to kill yourself, or attempt to escape?” I gave my promise, upon which
Hamza said, “Leave this man to me.”
The conversation which took place between us was of much longer
duration than the above would appear to indicate, but I cannot pretend
to remember _all_ that was said after the twelve years’ interval; the
above is the gist of it. I handed Hamza the rifle, and he, taking me
by the hand in the Bedawi manner, led me out of the tent, and towards
his section of the dervishes. On the way, in a few hurried whispers,
he gave me to understand that he was really still a friend of the
Government, and that I might trust implicitly in him. On reaching his
people, he called four men to attend to me, and sending for Hasseena,
told her to prepare such food as I was accustomed to. Hasseena came in
rags; her clothes, like mine, had been taken from her. He ordered one
of her dresses to be returned, and on my showing him how the skin had
been burned off my back and shoulders with the sun, he ordered that I,
too, should be supplied with more clothing.
|41|