Thrice hath the Fast of Ramadan come and gone since the Granter of
Requests last allowed my eyes to behold the well-remembered landscape,
scarcely visible in the pale light of dawn. Hills, covered with tall
feathery palms, rose abruptly from the barren, sun-scorched plain, and,
at their foot, stood the dazzlingly-white city of Omdurman, the
impregnable and mysterious headquarters of Mahdiism, while beyond, like
a silver ribbon winding through the marshes, the Nile glided, half
veiled by its thin white cloud of morning vapours.
Within the walled and strongly-guarded city was a scene, strange and
fantastic. The air, heavy with war rumours, was rent by the deafening
strokes of enormous brazen tamtams, mingling with the loud shouts of
dark-faced Jalins, half-naked negro fanatics of the Kunjara and the
Dinka, armed _cap a pie_, ready for battle at a moment's notice. The
excitement, which had increased daily for many months, had risen to
fever heat.
Throughout the short, hot night, the great _nahas_--those huge brass war
drums of the Khalifa Abdullah, Ruler of the Soudan--had been beaten by
relays of perspiring negro slaves, glittering with beads and trinkets,
the indescribable monotonous rhythm causing the wildly-excited populace
to cry, "_Nakelkum_!" and "_Naklulkum_!" as, in the fresh, cool hour,
when the Wolf's Tail--the first brushes of grey light which appear as
forerunners of dawn--showed in the heavens, they seized guns, spears and
shields, and rushing from their houses across the great square of Abu
Anga they congregated in the wide, open space near the Tree of Hadra,
where the Raya Zerga, or dreaded black standard of the Khalifa, hung
ominous and motionless in the morning air.
Wild-haired men sped fleetly to and fro, brandishing their gleaming arms
and apostrophising Eblis; women left their millet unbeaten and followed,
while musicians chanted war songs softly in a sad falsetto, accompanying
themselves upon their little _ginkris_--those queer, two stringed
guitars, fashioned from a tortoise shell, which give forth a dismal
sound like the chirping of a grasshopper of the oasis. The servants of
the Merciful are those who walk meekly on the earth, and when the
ignorant speak to them, answer, "Peace"; and who pass the night adoring
Allah, and standing up to pray unto him, and who say, "O Allah, avert
from us the torment of hell, for the torment thereof is perpetual;
verily, the same is a miserable abode"; and who, when they bestow, are
neither profuse nor niggardly, but observe a just medium between these,
and who invoke not another god together with the One Allah, neither slay
the soul which Allah hath forbidden to be slain, unless for a just
cause. The Dervishes were going forth to battle.
On one side of the spacious review ground frowned the castellated walls
of the imposing white fortress, held so long by Faragallah Pasha against
the fierce hordes of the Mahdi; on the other, the ill-built quarters of
the Genadien, or regular soldiers, while the single tree in the centre
was historical by reason of the head of Gordon, the brave Pasha of the
Infidels, having been exhibited thereon by order of our tyrannical lord,
the Madhi. It was at this spot that the wild multitude heaped curses
upon the last grim relic of the gallant, deserted hero of Khartoum, the
man whose matchless bravery and dogged perseverance were alike admired
by my own co-religionists, as well as by the Infidels themselves.
But the Mahdi, Khalifat-er-Rasul--the great False Prophet, renowned
throughout the world, who, by inducing us to believe that, by his
supernatural influence, he could transform the bullets of the white men
into water, caused us to flock to his standard and attempt to conquer
the Soudan--was now dead, and the power of the Khalifa Abdullah supreme.
Seven years ago had the hand of Allah's justice fallen heavily upon the
hypocritical imitator of the Great Prophet, who asserted that he could
part the waters of the Nile, that his body was invulnerable, and who was
so successful in his ingenious impostures that the people threw
themselves down frantically to kiss the spots his crimson slippers had
touched, while the water in which he performed his ablutions was drunk
as an unfailing remedy for every sort of malady. The very dust of his
sandals was declared to be the collyrium of the eyes of men. But the
struggle with the English, the fall of El Obeid, the capture of Galabat,
and the defeat and death of the King of Abyssinia were events now long
past and forgotten.
In this record of fact, adventure and strange marvels, I,
Zafar-Ben-A'Ziz, called by some, El-Motardjim ("the translator"), on
account of my knowledge of many tongues, am compelled to speak of
myself. I am not a Soudanese, but an Arab, son of the Hadj Yakub
Sarraf, Kaid of the Aures. I passed my childhood at my birthplace,
El-Manaa, two days' journey from Batna. Then my father, having trading
relations with an Arab merchant living in London, the giant city of the
English, I was sent there for two years to learn the tongue. But I
cared not for the English, nor the ways of life in a city where the
women go abroad unveiled and laugh in the faces of the men, where speech
is carried along wires, where light is shed by two wires in contact and
where carriages are propelled along the roads without horses. Of a
verity, the London of the English is a city full of marvels, infidel
customs, amazing sights, and the accursed inventions of Eblis himself.
To the English the One Accursed has imparted the secret of his wiles and
miracles, whereby they are the powerful people on the face of the earth.
After two years rubbing shoulders with the white men who believed not
in the Prophet, but worshipped a cross as emblem of their deity, I grew
weary, for, during the whole time, mine eyes were never refreshed by
seeing the interior of a mosque, although once or twice I entered their
churches without removing my shoes, as is their custom.
During my absence in the land of the Infidels my mother died, and six
moons after my return my father was taken into Certainty. Then life
among my people, the Chawi--the beauty of whose women is world famous--
had but little charm for me, born Bedouin that I am. I longed for the
journeys afar by camel, the free life, the burning sun and the limitless
horizon. I felt the need of the devouring heat. I sighed for the
desert and the endless sands, and all my youthful dreams were radiant
with rosy anticipations. Therefore, after a few months of idleness, I
resolved to quit my studies and travel south across the Great Desert.
At sunrise, one day, I left behind my native mountains, and, with a
camel caravan, journeyed to Mourzouk. Thence I travelled with various
caravans to El Fasher, Dem Zibehr, Lado, and other places in the Soudan,
on many occasions finding myself in Khartoum, where several times I saw
the grave-faced Gordon, the heroic White Pasha, who was afterwards so
treacherously murdered. At the age of twenty-one I had succeeded in
establishing a small caravan of my own to journey between Khartoum and
Suakin, but suddenly the Mahdi rose against the Christians, and all
trade was stopped. Unfortunately, being an Arab from Algeria, I was an
alien, therefore my camels were at once seized, and, against my will, I
was pressed into military service, forced to take the _bea'a_, and bear
my part in the holy war under the dreaded standard of the Madhi. At
Tamai and Abu Klea I fought the English invaders, afterwards carrying
arms in Dongola, Berber, Galabat, Karkoj and Kordofan, where I fought
Infidels, slave-raiders and rebellious tribes, witnessing many fierce
combats and scenes of massacre too horrible to describe. "Allah
encompasseth the Infidels," says our Koran. "The lightning wanteth but
little of taking away their sight; so often as it enlighteneth them they
walk therein, but when darkness cometh on them they stand still." I
loved the brilliant nights and the ruddy splendour of the moonbeams
reflected on the sands; even the sinister howls of the jackals on the
plains of Kababich had become a familiar sound and no longer disturbed
me.
Such, briefly, is the story how, from a student at the French Lycee at
Algiers, and a clerk in a London merchant's office, I developed into a
Dervish.
Now, however, as one of the renowned Ansar-ed-Din of the False Prophet's
successor, I, with face seared by sun-scalds, sat my milk-white horse in
the square of Abu Anga, ready to take part in the monster parade, prior
to setting forth upon an expedition across the Great Desert, westward to
Kano, the great capital of the powerful Sultan of Sokoto, which all knew
would be fraught with many perils.
But it was the Khalifa's will; none dare demur.
In the Koran, our perspicuous Book of Everlasting Will, it is written
that "Allah, the One Worthy of Praise, alone knoweth the heart of man,"
therefore he is aware that the profane chicanery of the Mahdi had
impressed me not, neither did I admire the fanatical teaching of the
Khalifa's speeches and sermons. But to speak in Omdurman against
Mahdiism, or the Khalifa, meant death, therefore silence and obedience
were best. Indeed, life was at all times uncertain in the Dervish
capital. The Khalifa was intensely vain and proud, professing the
religion of Al-Islam, but leading an idle, dissolute life, shut up in
his great white Palace, surrounded by all the pomp and splendour of a
Soudanese Sultan. Cruel, quick-tempered and distrustful, he was fearful
and jealous of his authority, and the smallest infringement of it was
looked upon as a heinous offence, to be punished accordingly. By an
elaborate system, he was surrounded by villainous, despicable spies, who
all pandered to his jealous and tyrannical nature. These spies were
everywhere, and besides obtaining admission to private houses in order
to ascertain if the inmates were loyal, their duty was also to seek out
the most attractive girls to grace their master's extensive harem.
Wherever a pretty woman was found throughout his dominions he at once
received information about her, and in a very short time she was
conveyed to the palace of Omdurman, where the hundred fountains were
refreshing, the marble courts were cool, and the Garden of Enchantment
was red with flowers and green with many leaves.