CHAPTER X.

THE SIEGE AND FALL OF KHARTUM.

Gordon returns to the Sudan--The Siege of Khartum--I join the

Mahdi at Rahad--Interviews and first Impressions of the

Mahdi--The Oath of Allegiance--Description of the Khalifa--The

Arrival of Hussein Pasha--Criticisms on Gordon's Mission--The

Abandonment of the Sudan proclaimed--Incidents in Various Parts

of the Sudan--The Arrival of Olivier Pain--His Mission, Illness,

and Death--Arrival outside Khartum--I write to Gordon--I am

arrested and thrown into Chains--Incidents during my

Imprisonment--The Surrender of Omdurman--The Delay of the

British Expedition--Khartum is attacked and taken--Gordon's Head

is brought to me--Account of the last Days of Khartum--Massacres

and Atrocities after the Fall--The Retreat of the British

Expedition--The Rigours of my Imprisonment increased--My Comrade

in Captivity, Frank Lupton--We are both released--I enter the

Khalifa's Body-guard--Illness and Death of the Mahdi--Khalifa

Abdullahi succeeds him--The Rules and Ordinances of the Mahdi.

After the destruction of Hicks Pasha's expedition, the Mahdi well knew

that the whole Sudan was at his feet; to take possession of it was

merely a question of time. His first step was the despatch of his cousin

Khaled to Darfur, where he knew no resistance was possible. Through the

influence of Karamalla, he was able to acquire possession of the Bahr el

Ghazal, the employés having merely transferred their allegiance from the

Khedive to the Mahdi. Already Mek Adam of Tagalla had submitted, and had

come to El Obeid with his family. Mahdism had seized a firm hold of the

Eastern Sudan, and found a ready home amongst the brave Arabs of those

regions; Egyptian troops had been annihilated at Sinkat and Tamanib;

General Baker's disaster at Teb had given the tribes great confidence;

and Mustafa Hadal was besieging Kassala. In the Gezira, between the

Blue and White Niles, the Mahdi's brother-in-law, Wad el Basir of the

Halawin tribe, had scored successes against the Government; and such was

briefly the condition of the country when Gordon reached Berber, on 11th

February 1884.

The Egyptian Government, in accord with the British Government, thought

that by the despatch of Gordon, who had special knowledge of the Sudan,

the agitation would be stopped; but neither these Governments, nor

Gordon himself, seemed to realise how serious the situation really was.

Did they imagine for a moment that Gordon, who had had occasion to show

considerable personal bravery, who had gained a name for charity and

benevolence amongst the lower classes of the Darfur population, and had

suppressed a number of revolts in the Equatorial Negro lands, was

capable of checking the blazing flames of fanaticism? The Jaalin between

Berber and Khartum, and throughout the Gezira, had become restive and

dissatisfied; and was the personal influence of Gordon going to pacify

them? On the contrary, these same tribes had every reason to remember

with little satisfaction the name of the Governor-General who had issued

the ejection edict against the Gellabas of the southern districts,

during the Suleiman Zubeir war against the Arabs. In the events which

followed on this drastic measure, and which I have described elsewhere,

many of these people had lost fathers, brothers, and sons, and had been

reduced to beggary; were they likely to forgive Gordon this?

On the 18th February, he reached Khartum, and received a warm welcome

from the officials and inhabitants. Those who were in immediate contact

with him, and anticipating for themselves much personal benefit, were

convinced that the Government would never leave a man like Gordon in the

lurch. Almost his first step was to issue a proclamation appointing the

Mahdi Sultan of Kordofan, permitting the slave-trade, and proposing to

enter into relations with him; in his letter he also asked for the

release of the prisoners, and sent the Mahdi some very fine clothes.

Gordon's letter would have been all very well if he had had a force at

his back with which to march into Kordofan; but the Mahdi had been told

that he had arrived at Khartum with merely a small body-guard. Naturally

he thought it an extraordinary proceeding for Gordon to give him what he

had already taken by force of arms, and which it was most improbable any

troops at Gordon's disposal could have wrenched from him; and it was in

this frame of mind that the Mahdi couched his reply advising Gordon to

surrender and save his life.

Meanwhile, the immense crowds which had collected round El Obeid began

to exhaust the water supply; and, to reduce the pressure, the Mahdi

despatched Abu Anga, with a large force, against Jebel Daïr, where the

Nuba tribes were offering a stubborn resistance to his rule.

In all these matters, Khalifa Abdullahi was the Mahdi's principal

adviser, and, consequently, he was detested by the immediate relatives

of the Prophet, who did all in their power to frustrate his designs, and

intrigue against him. He was, however, well aware that the Mahdi could

not get on without him; he therefore retaliated by complaining against

these intrigues, and asked the Mahdi to take an occasion to openly

acknowledge his services. This led to the issue of a proclamation which,

to this day, is referred to whenever any exceptionally severe measure or

important change is contemplated by his successor. It runs as follows:--

A PROCLAMATION

FROM MOHAMMED EL MAHDI TO ALL HIS FOLLOWERS.

In the name of God, etc., Know ye, O my followers, that the

representative of the righteous [Abu Bakr], and the Emir of the

Mahdi army, referred to in the Prophet's vision, is Es Sayed

Abdullahi Ibn es Sayed Hamadalla. He is of me, and I am of him.

Behave with all reverence to him, as you do to me; submit to him

as you submit to me, and believe in him as you believe in me;

rely on all he says, and never question any of his proceedings.

All that he does is by order of the Prophet, or by my

permission. He is my agent in carrying out the will of the

Prophet. If God and His Prophet desire to do anything, we must

submit to their will; and if any one shows the slightest

disinclination, he is not a believer, and has no faith in God.

The Khalifa Abdullahi is the representative of the righteous.

You are well aware of the love of God and His apostle for the

righteous; therefore, you can readily understand the honourable

position which should be held by His representative. He is

guarded by the "Khudr," and is strengthened by God and His

Prophet. If any one of you speak or think ill of him, you will

suffer destruction, and will lose this world and the world to

come.

Know, therefore, that all his sayings and actions must never be

questioned; for he has been given wisdom and a right judgment in

all things. If he sentence any of you to death, or confiscate

your property, it is for your good; therefore do not disobey

him. The Prophet says that, in next degree to the Prophet, Abu

Bakr was the greatest living man under the sun, and also the

most righteous. The Khalifa Abdullahi is his representative;

and, by order of the Prophet, he is my Khalifa. All those who

believe in God and in me must also believe in him; and, should

any one notice anything apparently wrong in him, they should

attribute it to a mystery which they cannot understand, and

that, therefore, it must be right. Let those who are present

tell those who are absent, so that all may submit to him, and

attribute to him no wrong. Beware of doing any harm to the

friends of God; for God and His Prophet curse those that behave

or think badly of His friends.

The Khalifa Abdullahi is the commander of the faithful, and is

my Khalifa and agent in all religious matters. Therefore, I

leave off as I have begun,--"Believe in him; obey his orders;

never doubt what he says, but give all your confidence to him,

and trust him in all your affairs." And may God be with you all.

Amen.

As the water was daily becoming more scarce, the Mahdi resolved to move

his entire camp to Rahad, about one day's journey from El Obeid; and,

about the middle of April, the transfer of this immense mass of men,

women, and children to the new position was completed. He had left his

old relative, Sayed Mahmud, at El Obeid with very strict orders that any

persons found remaining in the town, without his permission, were to be

sent to Rahad by force; and he sent further reinforcements to Jebel

Daïr, which was only a day's march distant, and where the plucky Nubas

were defending themselves most gallantly.

The camp at Rahad soon became a perfect sea of straw huts, or tokuls,

stretching as far as the eye could reach; and, all day long, the Mahdi

occupied himself in his religious duties, preaching and praying

incessantly. Mohammed Abu Girga, he nominated Emir of the Gezira, and

despatched him, with a considerable following, to the Nile, with

instructions to head the revolt in these districts, and besiege Khartum.

Such was the state of affairs when, towards sunset, Said Bey Guma,

Dimitri Zigada, and I approached Rahad. We stopped for the night at some

huts on the outskirts; and it was not long before a considerable number

of people became aware of our arrival, and we received several visits

from those who were anxious to know the situation in Darfur when we had

left. At sunrise, having donned our new jibbas, we took leave of our

hosts, and proceeded towards the camp where we were expected in two

hours time; my servants, who knew something of tailoring, had made me a

jibba with broad black patches sewn on with such evenness and regularity

that, at a short distance, I must have looked exactly like a lady in a

fancy bathing costume, whilst Said Bey and Zigada wore party-coloured

patches which gave them the appearance of harlequins. I now sent on one

of my servants to apprise the much-feared Khalifa of our approach; but,

as he delayed returning, we rode on along the broad road leading to the

market-place. As we approached, we heard the dismal sound of the ombeÿa,

which was the signal that the Khalifa had gone out on his horse. By

chance, I came across a Darfuri who, when I asked him what the ombeÿa

was being sounded for, replied, "Very probably Khalifa Abdullahi is

giving orders for some one's head to be cut off, and this is a summons

to the people to witness the execution." Had I been superstitious, I

should certainly have taken this as a bad omen,--an execution the moment

I entered the camp! However, we rode on, and soon came in sight of a

large open place where we saw my servant and another man hastening

towards us. "Stay where you are," cried he, "and come no further; the

Khalifa, with his escort, has gone out to meet you; he thought you were

still outside the camp." We halted while the other man returned to let

the Khalifa know we had arrived. A few minutes later, we saw hundreds of

horsemen surrounded by numbers of armed footmen approaching us, and

marching to the sound of the ombeÿa. At the farther end of the open

space was the Khalifa himself; he had halted, and several horsemen,

ranging up to his right and left, stood awaiting his instructions. He

now ordered them to begin their horse exercise, which consisted of

batches of four men abreast, with poised lances, galloping at full speed

towards some point, then suddenly pulling up, turning round and

galloping back again; this useless sort of drill continued until men and

horses became utterly exhausted. Sometimes I was the objective of their

charge, and, as they galloped up, they shook their spears close to my

face, shouting, "Fi shan Allah wa Rasulahu" (For God and His Prophet),

and then galloped back again. After repeating this operation for upwards

of half an hour, one of the Khalifa's servants at length approached me

on foot, and told me that the Khalifa wished me also to gallop towards

him. I did so, shook my lance in his face, shouted, "Fi shan Allah wa

Rasulahu!" and then returned to my place. He now sent word to me to ride

behind him, and in a few minutes we reached his quarters. He was

assisted to dismount by a special attendant, the remainder keeping at a

respectful distance; and he disappeared behind the fence. In a few

moments, he sent out a message to us to come in; and we were conducted

to a spot fenced off from the rest of the enclosure, which is

designated the rekuba; it was merely a small, square apartment with

straw walls and a thatch roof. In it were several angarebs and

palm-mats; we were told to seat ourselves on these, and were served with

a mixture of honey and water in a pumpkin gourd, and some dates. Having

partaken of this, we patiently awaited the appearance of our hospitable

host and master. He soon came in, and we at once rose; seizing my hand,

he pressed me to his heart, saying, "God be praised, we are at last

united! How do you feel after your long and tiring journey?" "Yes,

indeed," I replied, "God be praised for having granted me to live to see

this day! When I beheld your countenance, my fatigue at once left me!" I

well knew that, to win his favour, I must flatter him as much as

possible; he now gave his hand to Said Bey and Dimitri to kiss, and

asked how they were. I scrutinised him very carefully; he had a

light-brown complexion, a sympathetic Arab face, on which the marks of

small-pox were still traceable, an aquiline nose, a well-shaped mouth,

slight moustache, and a fringe of hair on his cheeks, but rather thicker

on his chin; he was about middle height, neither thin nor stout, was

wearing a jibba covered with small square patches of different colours,

and a Mecca takia, or skull cap, round which was bound a cotton turban;

he generally spoke with a smile, and showed a row of glistening white

teeth. Having greeted us, he told us to be seated; and we at once sat on

the palm-mats on the ground, whilst he sat cross-legged on an angareb.

Once more he inquired after our health, and expressed his great delight

that we had at last reached the Mahdi. On a sign to one of his servants,

a dish of asida, and another of meat, were laid before us, and, sitting

beside us, he told us to help ourselves; he himself ate heartily,

seeming to thoroughly enjoy his food, and, during the meal, he asked

several questions. "Why," said he, smiling, "did you not wait for me

outside the camp, instead of entering without permission? You know you

are not supposed to enter a friend's house without his permission."

"Pardon," said I, "my servant kept us waiting so long, and none of us

thought you would take the trouble to come out and meet us; then, as we

reached the entrance of the camp, we heard the beating of war-drums and

the sound of your ombeÿa, and, when we inquired what that meant, we were

told that you had ridden out to witness the execution of a criminal; we

therefore intended following the sound of your ombeÿa, when your order

reached us." "Am I then known as a tyrant amongst the people," said he,

"that the sound of my ombeÿa should always mean the death of some one?"

"No, indeed, sir," said I, "you are generally known to be strict, but

just." "Yes, I am strict," he replied; "but this must be so, and you

will understand the reasons as you prolong your stay with me."

One of the Khalifa's slaves now entered, and said that several people

were waiting outside, and sought his permission to greet me. The Khalifa

at once asked if I was not too fatigued after my journey; and when I

said no, he allowed them to come in. The first to enter was Ahmed Wad

Ali (the Kadi el Islam), who was formerly one of my Government

officials, but had deserted from Shakka; then followed Abderrahman ben

Naga, who had come with the Hicks expedition, in the course of which he

had lost an eye, and had been wounded in several places, but had been

rescued by some of his slaves who were with the Mahdists; Ahmed Wad

Suleiman, the Treasurer of the Beit el Mal, Sayed Abdel Kader, the

Mahdi's uncle, Sayed Abdel Karim, and several others followed. All of

them kissed the Khalifa's hand with deep reverence, and, after asking

his permission, greeted me. The usual complimentary speeches passed

between us; and, after reciprocal congratulations that we had lived to

see the glorious time of the Mahdi, they withdrew; Abderrahman alone

gave me a wink with his one eye as he said good-bye, from which I knew

he had something to say to me, so I walked forward a few steps with him,

and, in a low quick tone, he muttered: "Be very careful; hold your

tongue, and trust no one." I took his warning to heart.

The Khalifa then departed, recommending us to take some rest, as he

would present us to the Mahdi at noon-day prayers. We now inquired about

our servants, and were told that they had been taken in and given food.

Once alone, and convinced that there were no eavesdroppers near, we

spoke of our excellent reception, and I warned the others to be most

careful about what they said. Dimitri Zigada was now getting quite

pleased with himself, and began searching about in his pockets for a

piece of tobacco to chew; he produced some from under his jibba, and at

once put it in his mouth. I begged him to be careful, as such practices

were entirely forbidden by the Mahdi; he replied by saying he intended

asking the Khalifa to allow him to go and live with his compatriots, of

whom there were a considerable number in camp. "I am only a common

merchant," said he, "and have lost all my money; the Khalifa won't take

any further notice of me; but you will have to keep a sharp lookout

yourselves, for you are former Government officials and military men, so

he will watch you very carefully."

About two o'clock in the afternoon a message reached us from the

Khalifa, to perform our ablutions, and prepare to go to the Mesjed

(place of worship); a few minutes later he arrived himself, and told us

to follow him. He was on foot, as the mosque, which was close to the

Mahdi's hut, was only about three hundred yards off. On arrival, we

found the place crowded with devotees, ranged in closely packed lines;

and, when the Khalifa entered, they made way for him with great respect.

A sheepskin was spread on the ground for us, and he directed us to take

our places beside him. The Mahdi's quarters, consisting of several large

straw huts fenced off by a thorn zariba, were situated at the southwest

end of the mosque. A gigantic tree afforded shade to a number of the

worshippers, but those beyond had no protection from the burning sun. A

few paces from the front line, and to the right, lay a small hut which

was reserved for those with whom the Mahdi wished to converse in

private. The Khalifa now rose and entered this hut, probably to inform

his master of our arrival; for, in a few moments, he returned, again

seated himself beside me, and almost immediately the Mahdi himself came

out. The Khalifa at once arose, and with him Said Bey, Dimitri, and I,

who were just behind him, whilst the others quietly remained in their

places. The Mahdi being the Imam, or leader of prayers, his sheepskin

was spread out in front; and he then stepped towards us. I had advanced

slightly, and he greeted me with "Salam aleikum," which we at once

returned by "Aleikum es salam." He then presented his hand for me to

kiss, which I did several times, and Said Bey and Dimitri followed my

example. Motioning us to be seated, he welcomed us, and, turning to me,

said, "Are you satisfied?" "Indeed I am," I replied, readily; "on coming

so near to you I am most happy." "God bless you and your brethren!"

(meaning Said Bey and Dimitri) said he; "when news reached us of your

battles against my followers, I used to pray to God for your conversion.

God and His Prophet have heard my prayers, and as you have faithfully

served your former master for perishable money, so now you should serve

me; for he who serves me, and hears my words, serves God and His

religion, and shall have happiness in this world and joy in the world to

come." We of course all made professions of fidelity; and as I had been

previously warned to ask him to give me the "beia," or oath of

allegiance, I now besought this honour. Calling us up beside him, he

bade us kneel on the edge of his sheepskin, and, placing our hands in

his, he told us to repeat after him as follows:--

"Bism Illahi er Rahman er Rahim, bayana Allaha wa Rasulahu wa bayanaka

ala tauhid Illahi, wala nushrek billahi shayan, wala nasrek, wala nazni,

wala nati bi buhtan, wala nasak fil maruf, bayanaka ala tark ed dunya

wal akhera, wala naferru min el jehad" (In the name of God the most

compassionate and merciful, in the name of the unity of God, we pay God,

His Prophet, and you our allegiance; (we swear) that we shall not

associate anything else with God, that we shall not steal, nor commit

adultery, nor lead any one into deception, nor disobey you in your

goodness; we swear to renounce this world and (look only) to the world

to come, and that we shall not flee from the religious war).

This over, we kissed his hand, and were now enrolled amongst his most

devoted adherents; but at the same time we were liable to suffer their

punishments. The muazzen (prayer caller) now gave the first signal to

begin prayers, and we repeated the usual formulæ after the Mahdi. When

they were over, all those present raised their hands to Heaven, and

besought God to grant victory to the faithful. The Mahdi now began his

sermon. An immense circle was formed around him, and he spoke of the

vanity and nothingness of this life, urging all to renounce the world,

and to think only of their religious duties, and of the Jehad; he

painted, in most glowing terms, the delights of Paradise, and the

heavenly joys which awaited those who paid heed to his doctrine. Every

now and then he was interrupted by the shouts of some fanatic in an

ecstasy; and, indeed, I am convinced every one present, except

ourselves, really believed in him. The Khalifa, having something to do,

had left the mosque, but had ordered his mulazemia (body-guard), who

remained, to tell us to stay with the Mahdi till sunset. I had now a

good opportunity of making a careful survey of Mohammed Ahmed; he was a

tall, broad-shouldered man of light-brown colour, and powerfully built;

he had a large head and sparkling black eyes; he wore a black beard, and

had the usual three slits on each cheek; his nose and mouth were well

shaped, and he had the habit of always smiling, showing his white teeth

and exposing the V-shaped aperture between the two front ones which is

always considered a sign of good luck in the Sudan, and is known as

"falja." This was one of the principal causes which made the Mahdi so

popular with the fair sex, by whom he was dubbed "Abu falja" (the man

with the separated teeth). He wore a short quilted jibba, beautifully

washed, and perfumed with sandal-wood, musk, and attar of roses; this

perfume was celebrated amongst his disciples as Rihet el Mahdi (the

odour of the Mahdi), and was supposed to equal, if not surpass, that of

the dwellers in Paradise.

We remained exactly on the same spot, with our legs tucked away behind,

until the time for evening prayers came. Meanwhile the Mahdi had

frequently gone to and fro between his house and the mosque; and,

prayers over, I begged leave to depart, as the Khalifa had told me to

return to him at that hour. He gave me permission, and took the

opportunity of saying that I must adhere closely to the Khalifa, and

devote myself entirely to his service. Of course I promised to obey him

to the letter, and Dimitri, Said Bey, and I, covering the Mahdi's hand

with kisses, quitted the mosque. My legs were so cramped by the posture

in which I had been sitting for hours together that I could scarcely

walk; but, in spite of the pain, I was obliged to keep as cheerful a

face as possible in the Mahdi's presence. Said Bey was more used to it,

and did not seem to suffer so much; but poor Dimitri limped behind,

muttering Greek in an undertone, which I have no doubt conveyed the most

frightful imprecations,--at any rate I can vouch that they were not

songs of praise of the Mahdi. A mulazem returned with us to the

Khalifa's house, where he was waiting for us to sit down to supper with

him.

He told us that since he had seen us in the morning, Sheikh Hamed en Nil

of the Arakin Arabs, and one of the principal Sheikhs of the Gezira, had

arrived, and that his relatives had begged him to ride out and meet him;

but he refused, as he preferred spending the evening with us. We of

course thanked him profusely for his good-will and kindness; and we were

loud in the praises of the Mahdi, which evidently much pleased the

Khalifa. He now left us to attend evening prayers, and, on his return,

talked to us about Darfur; he also mentioned that Hussein Khalifa,

formerly Mudir of Berber, was expected within the next few days. So it

was true Berber had fallen; we had heard rumours to this effect, on the

Darfur frontier, but met no one whom we could ask confidentially about

it. The town must have fallen through the Jaalin; and now communication

with Egypt must be entirely cut off. This was terribly bad news. I

anxiously looked out for Hussein Khalifa's arrival; he would be able to

give us all the facts.

The Khalifa now left us for the night; and, utterly tired out, we

stretched out our weary limbs on the angarebs, and gave ourselves up to

our own thoughts. There were of course no lights; but in the dark I

heard Dimitri's mouth at work, and I had no doubt the man was again

chewing tobacco. Once more I spoke seriously to him, and warned him that

he would fare badly if discovered; to which he sleepily replied, that

his little stock of tobacco was now done, and that the bit in his mouth

was positively his very last piece.

Early the next day, after morning prayers, the Khalifa again came to see

us, and asked how we were getting on. Soon after Sheikh Hamed en Nil's

relatives arrived, and begged the Khalifa to allow them to present their

Sheikh to him; he was admitted into his presence as a penitent, his neck

in a sheba, his head sprinkled with ashes, and a sheepskin bound about

his loins. On entering, he knelt down, saying, "El afu ya sidi!"

(Pardon, sire!). Standing up, the Khalifa directed one of his servants

to remove the sheba, and take the ashes off his head, and then told him

to put on his clothes, which were being carried for him. This done, he

asked him to be seated; and the Sheikh, repeatedly begging pardon,

expressed his deep regret that his visit to the Mahdi had been so long

delayed. The Khalifa pardoned him, and promised to present him to the

Mahdi in the afternoon, when he also would, in all probability, forgive

him. "Master," said Hamed en Nil, "since you have pardoned me, I am now

happy, and at ease. I consider that your forgiveness is the same as the

Mahdi's; for you are of him, and he is of you," and saying these words,

he kissed the Khalifa's hand (he had cleverly repeated the words in the

proclamation already referred to).

After partaking of a breakfast of asida and milk, we separated; the

blowing of the ombeÿa, and the beating of drums, announced that the

Khalifa was about to ride; and horses were at once saddled. Directing my

servants to get two horses ready,--one for myself and the other for Said

Bey,--we mounted and soon caught up the Khalifa, who had gone on ahead.

He was riding for pleasure round the camp, accompanied by some twenty

footmen; on his right walked an enormous Black of the Dinka tribe, and

on his left, a very tall Arab named Abu Tsheka, whose duty it was to

help the Khalifa in and out of the saddle. When he came again to the

open space, he directed the horsemen to repeat yesterday's exercises;

and, after watching this for some time, we rode on to the end of the

camp, where he showed me the remains of an immense zariba and small

tumbled-in trench, which he told me had been one of Hicks's last halting

places before his annihilation, and where he had awaited reinforcements

from Tagalla. The trench had been made for his Krupp guns. The sight of

this awakened very sad memories; to think of the thousands, who but a

short time before had been camped in this great zariba having been

killed almost to a man, and that this disaster was the cause of my being

where I now was!

On our way back, the Khalifa took me to pay a visit to his brother

Yakub, whose huts were close to his own, the fences being merely

separated by a narrow passage. Yakub received me very kindly, and

appeared as pleased to see me as Abdullahi had been; he warned me to

serve him faithfully, which I of course promised to do. Yakub is a

somewhat shorter man than the Khalifa, broad-shouldered, with a round

face deeply pitted with small-pox; he has a small turned-up nose, and

slight moustache and beard; he is distinctly more ugly than handsome,

but has the art of talking in a curiously sympathetic way. He, too, like

the Mahdi and the Khalifa, smiled continually; and what wonder, when

their affairs were progressing so very satisfactorily! Yakub reads and

writes, and knows the Kuran by heart, whilst Abdullahi is comparatively

very ignorant. He is some years the Khalifa's junior, and is his trusted

and most powerful adviser. Woe to the unfortunate man who differs in

opinion with Yakub, or who is suspected of intriguing against him, he is

infallibly lost!

Partaking of some of the dates he offered me, I took leave of him and

returned to the rekuba, whence, in accordance with the Khalifa's order,

we proceeded to the mosque, and stayed till sunset, as we did the

previous day. Again the Mahdi preached renunciation, urging his hearers

to be ready for the Jehad, so as to enter into the future joys of

Paradise. Again and again, the faithful devotees, half intoxicated with

fanaticism, shouted his praises; whilst we poor wretches, enduring

agonies in our cramped position, imprecated in our hearts Mahdi,

Khalifa, and his whole crew of base hypocrites.

The next day, the Khalifa summoned us, and asked if we wished to return

to Darfur. I knew the question had only been put to us as a test; and we

at once answered with one voice, that we should deeply regret leaving

the Mahdi. I saw that he anticipated this answer, and, smiling, he

commended us for our wise decision. The Khalifa now, of his own accord,

suggested that a longer stay in the rekuba was probably distasteful to

us; he, therefore, sent Dimitri with a mulazem to the house of his

future Emir, who was a Greek, and he also gave instructions to Ahmed Wad

Suleiman to issue twenty dollars to him. After he had gone, he turned to

Said Bey, saying, "Said Guma, you are an Egyptian, and every one likes

his own compatriots best; we have with us several Egyptians, many of

proved fidelity. You are brave and I know I can count on you; you will

therefore join the Emir of all the Egyptians, Hassan Hussein, and he

will give you a house, and see to your requirements. I shall also do

what is necessary on my side." Said Bey was of course much pleased with

the arrangement. Then, turning to me, he said, "Abdel Kader, you are a

stranger here, and have no one else but me. You know well the Arabs of

Southern Darfur; therefore, in accordance with the Mahdi's orders, you

are to remain with me as a mulazem." "That is the very wish of my

heart," I answered readily; "I call myself fortunate to be able to serve

you, and you can rely on my obedience and fidelity." "I knew that," said

he; "may God protect you and strengthen your faith; you will no doubt be

of much use to both the Mahdi and myself."

Soon afterwards, the Emir Hassan Hussein came in; the Khalifa had

summoned him, and now recommended to his care Said Guma, who promised he

would do all he could for him. He also instructed him to send for Said

Bey's family, which had been left behind at Kobbé; and the latter,

taking a grateful leave of the Khalifa, proceeded, in company of a

mulazem, to Ahmed Wad Suleiman, who had been authorised to supply him

with forty dollars and a female slave.

Once more I was alone with the Khalifa, and again he repeated how

gratified he was to have me in his service, and always beside him; at

the same time he warned me not to associate with his near relatives,

whose jealous feelings might lead to an estrangement between us. He also

gave orders for some straw huts to be erected in the zariba next his

own, belonging to Abu Anga, who was now absent, fighting against the

Nubas; meanwhile he said I was to stay in the rekuba, and without fail

attend the Mahdi's noon-day and evening prayers. Thanking him profusely

for all these favours, I promised to do my utmost to please him and

continue in his good graces.

At supper the same evening, the Khalifa told me with delight that

Hussein Khalifa had arrived, and was to be presented the next day.

Consequently, at noon, the Khalifa received him with his relatives, in

ashes and sheba, just as he had received Sheikh Hamed en Nil. Knowing

what his feelings were as regards the Mahdists, I realised it must have

been a terrible humiliation for him to come in this way; but some of his

old friends who were now in high favour with the Mahdi, advised him to

do so, and he had consented. The Khalifa had the sheba and ashes

removed, pardoned him, and then presented me to him, and asked me to be

seated. Being a mulazem of the Khalifa, I was practically in the

position of a sort of servant, and as such I always stood up behind him,

and of course did my best to carry out my new rôle satisfactorily.

Abdullahi began the conversation by inquiring after the health of the

late Governor of Berber; and, receiving the usual replies, he then

turned to the situation on the river, and Hussein described the whole

country between Berber and Fashoda as being entirely with the Mahdi, and

communication between Egypt and the Sudan quite interrupted, whilst

Khartum, which was defended by Gordon, was invested by the Gezira

tribes. He naturally coloured the situation in the way which he knew

would be most acceptable to the Mahdi; and that he was favourably

impressing the Khalifa, was evident from the expressions of satisfaction

which escaped the latter as the narrative proceeded. Abdullahi promised

that at noon-day prayers he would present Hussein Khalifa to the Mahdi,

of whose forgiveness he might rest assured; in the meantime he was to

rest in the rekuba.

The Khalifa, having something to do, now left us together; but as there

were several of his relatives there whom I did not know, we could only

talk about our personal concerns, and congratulate each other on our

good fortune in becoming followers of the Mahdi. At noon, the Khalifa

returned, and took dinner with Hussein Khalifa, I also being invited to

partake of the meal. In the course of conversation, the Khalifa asked,

"Did you happen to see Mohammed Sherif, the former Sheikh of the Mahdi;

you must have passed his house on your way here? Is he still possessed

of that evil spirit which urges him to fight against the will of God,

and to refuse to acknowledge the Mahdi as his lord and master?"

"I spent a night at his house," replied Hussein Khalifa; "he has now

repented of his infidelity to God, and it is illness alone that prevents

him from coming here. Most of his former followers have joined those

besieging Khartum."

"It is better for him to serve the Mahdi," said Abdullahi; "now get

ready, and I shall present you to him."

Before prayers began, the Khalifa conducted him, as he had conducted me

a few days before, to the mosque, and bade him be seated; but I, being a

mulazem, now took up my position in the second line. On the Mahdi

approaching, the Khalifa and his guest stood up; and the latter, on

being presented, craved his pardon for the blindness of heart which had

hitherto prevented him from becoming one of his faithful adherents. He

was pardoned, and, on taking the oath of allegiance, was enjoined to

uphold faithfully the new doctrine, and attend prayers without fail. The

Mahdi, seeing me in the second line, directed me to come forward and

take up my position beside the Khalifa. "Drink of the river of my

words," said he, "and that will be of inestimable benefit to you." I

excused myself by saying that as mulazem of the Khalifa I did not think

it my place to stand beside my master, and had therefore joined the

second line. I was now praised for this act of self-abnegation; the

Mahdi added, however, that in future this should always be my position,

"For in the place of worship we are all alike."

After prayers, the Khalifa disappeared as usual, whilst Hussein Khalifa

and I remained in the mosque till sunset. My uncomfortable posture

brought more curses than prayers to my lips; but I had to put as good a

face as I could on the matter. That evening, we supped with the Khalifa,

and talked on general subjects, being continually warned to be honest

and sincere. To my great delight, Hussein Khalifa was directed to spend

that night in the rekuba; but his relatives were allowed to go home. The

Khalifa had left us, and the servants had retired, so we were quite

alone, and took this long-looked-for occasion to greet each other most

heartily, and to mutually bemoan the sad fate which brought us together

to this wretched position. "Hussein Pasha," said I, "I trust you and

yours may rest assured of my silence. Tell me what is the present

condition of Khartum, and what are the population doing?" "Alas!" he

replied, "it is exactly as I have already described it to the Khalifa.

Gordon's reading at Metemmeh of the proclamation abandoning the Sudan,

upset the situation entirely, and was indirectly the cause of the fall

of Berber. No doubt, it would have been lost later on; but this action

of Gordon's greatly precipitated it. At Berber, I stopped him from

taking this fatal step; and I cannot think what induced him to disregard

my advice almost immediately afterwards." We talked so long about the

situation and the various events that Hussein Pasha, who was old and

tired, fell asleep; but this conversation had banished all sleep from my

eyes. So this is to be the end, I thought, of all Gordon's efforts to

settle the country; and is all the blood and treasure expended in past

years to go for nothing? Now the Government wanted to abandon this great

country which, though hitherto it had not proved a financial benefit to

Egypt, was a land of great prospects, and could at least produce

thousands of splendid Black recruits with whom to fill the ranks of its

army. So the Government was to leave this country to its own people, and

yet to remain on friendly terms with it; it was to withdraw the

garrisons and war _matériel_, and to establish a form of local

Government, when a form of such Government had already sprung into

existence by the most violent of means,--namely, by the wholesale

overturning of every vestige of the authority which it was to replace,

and the massacre or capture of almost every individual representative of

the ousted ruling power.

To carry out this plan, they had sent Gordon in the hope that his

personal influence with the people, and their regard for him,--which he

was inclined to estimate somewhat highly,--would enable him to succeed

in this herculean task. Gordon, it is true, was popular with some of the

Western and Equatorial tribes, whom he had won over by his munificence

and his benevolent nature. During his stay in these districts, he had

constantly travelled about; and his noted courage and fearlessness in

action had won him the sympathy of those tribes whose greatest pride it

is to possess such qualities. Yes, there is no doubt he had been popular

with the Western Arabs: but they had now a Mahdi whom they adored; they

had almost forgotten Gordon. The Sudanese, it must be remembered, are

not Europeans; they are Arabs and Blacks, and are little given over to

sentimental feelings. But, in this particular case of the reading of the

proclamation, the people concerned were river tribes; and, of all

others, the Jaalin were perhaps the most hostile to Gordon, for they had

not forgotten the eviction of the Gellabas.

The mere fact that Gordon had come to Khartum without a force at his

back, proved to these people that he depended on his personal influence

to carry out his task; but, to those who understood the situation, it

was abundantly clear that personal influence at this stage was as a drop

in the ocean. Then what could have induced him to read that fatal

notice, proclaiming far and wide that the Government intended to abandon

the Sudan? At Hussein Pasha's advice, he had not read it at Berber; but

at Metemmeh, he had proclaimed it before all the people. Had Gordon

never been informed of the Mahdi's proclamations, sent to all the tribes

after the fall of El Obeid? Was he not aware that these proclamations

enjoined all the people to unite in a religious war against the

Government authority, and that those who disobeyed the summons, and were

found giving assistance to the hated Turk, were guilty of betraying the

faith, and as such would not only lose their money and property, but

their wives and children would become the slaves of the Mahdi and his

followers? Gordon's idea was to obtain the assistance of these tribes,

in order to facilitate the withdrawal of the garrisons; and he would

have come to terms with them to effect this object: but how could he

expect them to help him, when, in the words of that fatal proclamation,

it was decreed they were to be abandoned to their fate, and what would,

in this eventuality, have been their fate? Could they have opposed the

Mahdi, his forty thousand rifles, and his hosts of wild fanatics panting

for blood and plunder? No, indeed, these tribes were sensible enough to

understand that assistance given to Gordon to retreat, meant the

annihilation of themselves and the enslavement of their families; why

should they commit this self-sacrifice? How could Gordon's personal

influence avail him for an instant against the personal interests of

every man, woman, and child in the now abandoned Sudan?

If, for political or other reasons, it was impossible for the Government

to maintain the Sudan, or to re-conquer it by degrees, it was an equally

useless step to have sent Gordon there to sacrifice him. It did not

require a person of any special military capacity to remove the

garrisons and war _matériel_ by the steamers to Berber, under pretext of

relieving that town, and thus the whole or a considerable portion of the

Sudan garrisons might have been successfully withdrawn, though it would

have been necessary to do this without delay, and it could not have been

feasible after the fall of Berber; but Berber, it must be remembered,

did not fall till the 19th of May,--three months after Gordon's arrival

in Khartum. However, under any circumstances, the reading of that fatal

proclamation precipitated matters to an alarming extent; the intention

of the Government was openly declared to the Sudanese, and they

naturally, from that moment, looked to their own immediate interests,

which were now directly opposed to those of the Government so hopelessly

overturned by their victorious compatriot the Mahdi.

How could Gordon's qualities of personal bravery and energy, great as

they undoubtedly were, arrest the progress of events after that most

grave political error?

Perplexed and worried with such thoughts as these, I was tossing about

on my angareb, whilst Hussein Khalifa was snoring. There was no small

advantage in being a fatalist; but as yet I was too European to have

arrived at this stage, though gradually I learnt to look at such matters

with more equanimity, and my experiences in the Sudan have undoubtedly

taught me to practise that great virtue--patience.

The next morning, the Khalifa honoured us with a visit, and asked me why

my eyes were so red; I answered that, owing to a severe attack of fever,

I had passed a sleepless night, on which he advised me to take care of

myself and not to go into the sun; and he also excused me from attending

the Mahdi's prayers. However, when prayer-time came, I performed them

under the shade of the rekuba, and in the sight of the servants; as it

was my object to appear to them as devout as possible, well-knowing they

would report my every action to their master. The following day my huts

were ready, and, with the Khalifa's permission, I entered into

occupation. Hussein Khalifa had already been allowed to live with one of

his relatives; and he made a point of going through all five prayers

daily, in order to secure the good-will of the Mahdi and Khalifa, hoping

in this way to obtain their leave to go back to his own country. I

decided to remain as near the Khalifa as possible, and to only go

occasionally to the Mahdi when he recommended me to do so.

A few days afterwards, a rumour was spread through the camp that Abu

Girga had been attacked by Gordon, and had been wounded; his forces,

which were then investing Khartum, were reported to have been repulsed,

and the siege raised. This news filled my heart with delight, though

openly, I was obliged to appear quite unconcerned.

Saleh Wad el Mek now arrived in the camp; he had been obliged to submit

at Fedasi, and had been sent on by Abu Girga. He received the pardon of

the Khalifa and Mahdi, and confirmed the above news; he also privately

gave me much interesting information about Gordon. That evening, the

Khalifa summoned me to supper with him; and no sooner had we set to work

to tear the huge piece of meat before us, than he asked, "Have you heard

the news to-day about Hajji Mohammed Abu Girga?" "No," I replied,

hypocritically, "I did not leave your door the whole day, and have met

no one."

"Gordon," continued the Khalifa, "made a sudden attack on Hajji Mohammed

from both the river and the land, when the Blue Nile was in flood; and

he has built structures on the steamers which stop the bullets of our

faithful Ansar. The unbeliever is a cunning man; but he will reap God's

punishment. Hajji Mohammed's men, who have suffered, have been obliged

to retire before superior force. Gordon is now rejoicing in his victory;

but he is deceived. God will grant victory only to those who believe in

Him; and, in a few days, God's vengeance will fall upon him suddenly.

Hajji Mohammed is not man enough to conquer the country; the Mahdi is

therefore sending Abderrahman Wad en Nejumi to besiege Khartum."

"I hope," said I, "that Hajji Mohammed has not suffered serious loss?"

meaning in my heart exactly the reverse.

"Battles cannot be fought without loss," said the Khalifa, with some

truth; "but I have not heard the full details yet." He was anything but

affable to-day. Gordon's victory had thoroughly upset him; and he

evidently anticipated that the effect would be serious. When I returned

to my hut, I sent my servant to ask Saleh Wad el Mek if he could come

and see me secretly; he was only a few huts off, and arrived some

minutes afterwards. I told him the Khalifa's corroboration of the news;

but he had already heard it from his relatives; and we continued talking

over past and present till a late hour. This victory had raised my

spirits enormously, and I found myself chatting quite hopefully of the

future; but Saleh looked on the success as only temporary, and his

reasons for this view were, I felt, fully justifiable.

He explained that, very soon after Gordon's arrival at Khartum, the

effect of the fatal proclamation began to be felt, and his difficulties

increased. The Jaalin had begun to collect, and had chosen as their

chief, Haj Ali Wad Saad, who soon had at his disposal a considerable

force; but, for personal reasons, he was secretly inclined to the

Government, and therefore delayed actually fighting as long as possible.

The Consuls of the various nationalities at Khartum, seeing the

situation getting worse, had applied to Gordon to send them to Berber;

but it was doubtful if it would have been safe to let them go, and, at

Gordon's suggestion, they decided to remain. The inhabitants of Khartum

had themselves begun to look with mistrust on Gordon; for they realised,

from the proclamation of which they had heard, that Gordon had only come

to withdraw the garrison, though, later on, they thoroughly understood

that Gordon himself had come to conquer with them or to die. The Sheikh

El Obeid, one of the great religious Sheikhs of the Sudan, had collected

together his followers at Halfaya to besiege Khartum. Gordon had sent

troops under Hassan Pasha and Said Pasha Hussein, who had been formerly

Governor of Shakka, to drive the rebels out of their position; and,

watching the operations through a telescope from the top of the Palace,

he had seen his trusted officers endeavouring to make over his troops to

the enemy, whilst they themselves were retreating to Khartum. He had

tried these traitorous officers by general court-martial, and had had

them shot. In spite of this disaster, he had succeeded in relieving the

Shaigias, who were loyal to Government, and had brought them, under

their commander Sanjak Abdel Hamid Wad Mohammed, to Khartum.

Saleh Wad el Mek, himself invested by the rebels at Fedasi, had begged

Gordon to relieve him; but it was impossible to do so, and he had been

obliged to surrender with one thousand four hundred irregulars and

cavalry, with all their arms. In consequence of this success, Hajji

Mohammed Abu Girga had collected all the inhabitants of the Gezira to

besiege Khartum. Whilst these events were happening in the neighbourhood

of that town, the Mahdi's former teacher, Sheikh Mohammed el Kheir

(formerly Mohammed ed Diker), had come to the river, and had been

appointed by his early pupil Emir of Berber; he had placed all the

tribes in the province under his orders, and the latter, collecting

adherents from his own tribe, the Jaalin, and reinforced by the Barabra,

Bisharia, and other Arabs, had laid siege to Berber, which had fallen in

a few days.

The province of Dongola had hitherto held out, owing principally to its

crafty Mudir, Mustafa Bey Yawer, who had twice written to the Mahdi,

offering him his submission; but the latter, fearing to trust one of the

hated Turks, had sent his relative, Sayed Mahmud Ali, to join the

Shaigia Emir Sheikh el Heddai, who had already headed a disturbance in

the province, to take possession. But Mustafa Bey, secretly learning

that he was not acceptable, had fallen suddenly on Heddai at Debba, and,

encouraged by the presence of a British officer[11] in his province, had

followed up this success by inflicting a crushing defeat on the Mahdists

at Korti, in which both the Emirs Mahmud and Heddai were killed.

At Sennar, matters were not so satisfactory; it was closely invested,

but had large reserve supplies of corn. Communication with the outside

was, however, completely stopped, though Nur Bey, the brave commander,

had made a successful sortie which had driven off the rebels to some

distance, and enabled the town to breathe again.

Appeals now reached the Mahdi, from all parts, to come down to the

river; but he was in no particular hurry, for he knew that the country

was securely in his hands, and that it would require a large Egyptian or

foreign army to re-conquer it from him. Every Friday, he held a review

of his troops, at which he himself was always present. His force was

divided into three portions, each under the command of a Khalifa,

though, in addition, Khalifa Abdullahi was entitled "Reis el Gesh"

(Commander-in-chief of the Army). His own special division was known as

the Raya ez Zarga, or blue flag, and his brother Yakub represented him

as its commander. The Raya el Khadra, or green flag, was under the

command of the Khalifa Ali Wad Helu; while the red flag, the Raya el

Ashraf (flag of the nobles), was placed under Khalifa Mohammed Sherif.

Under each principal flag were grouped the flags of the various Emirs.

When the reviews took place, the Emirs of the Raya ez Zarga deployed

into line with their banners facing east; those of the green flag were

drawn up opposite to them, facing west; and, connecting these two lines,

and facing north, were the Emirs and flags of the Ashraf. The numbers of

the Mahdi's followers being now enormous, an immense square was thus

formed, open on one side; and the Mahdi and his staff, advancing to the

centre, would receive the salute, and would then ride along the lines,

welcoming his faithful adherents with the words, "Allah yebarek fikum!"

(May God bless you!)

During these Friday reviews, called Arda or Tarr, extraordinary

occurrences were said to take place. One would assert that he saw the

Prophet riding beside the Mahdi, and talking with him; others would say

they heard voices from Heaven, shouting blessings on the Ansar, and

promises of victory. They would even affirm that a passing cloud was

formed by angels' wings in order to give shade and refreshment to the

faithful.

About three days after the news had been received of Abu Girga's defeat,

an Italian named Joseph Cuzzi arrived at Rahad from Khartum; he had been

residing in Berber at the time of its fall, having been left behind by

A. Marquet, the agent of Debourg and Company, to wind up some of their

affairs. Mohammed el Kheir had sent him, as a prisoner, to Abu Girga,

and he had despatched him with a letter to Gordon; but the latter had

refused to see him, and had sent him back to the enemy's post, on the

east bank of the Blue Nile, opposite Khartum. The Mahdi now sent Cuzzi

back in company with a Greek named George Calamatino, with letters to

Gordon summoning him to submit. By the hands of this Greek, I also sent

secretly a few lines to Gordon Pasha. The Greek was permitted to enter

the lines; but Cuzzi was kept at a place some distance off, as, on the

first occasion on which he had come, he was reported by the officers to

have personally summoned them to surrender.

When the fast of Ramadan was over, Abu Anga and his entire fighting

force were recalled from Jebel Daïr; and the Mahdi then publicly

announced that the Prophet had directed him to proceed to Khartum and

lay siege to it. Every Emir was enjoined to collect his men, and order

them to prepare for the march; whilst any who remained behind were

declared lawful prey, and liable to total confiscation of all they

possessed. However, there was no hanging back on the part of the people,

whose fanaticism knew no bounds, and who were well aware that treasure

and plunder generally fell to the share of the faithful followers. The

consequence was that the Mahdi's summons brought about a wholesale

immigration of the entire population, such as had never before been seen

in the Sudan.

We left Rahad on 22nd August, the Mahdist forces marching by three

separate roads: the northern one, _via_ Khursi, Helba, and Tura el

Hadra, was selected by the camel-owning tribes; the central road, _via_

Tayara, Sherkéla, Shatt, and Duem, was taken by the Mahdi, Khalifas, and

the majority of the Emirs; whilst the Baggaras and cattle-owning tribes

adopted the southern route, which was well supplied with water, owing to

the frequent rain pools which served as drinking places for the cattle.

I, of course, in my capacity as mulazem of the Khalifa, followed my

master; but, as a rule, when halted in camp, I used to send my horses

and servants to Saleh Wad el Mek, who had joined the Mahdi's suite. The

Khalifa, however, for some unknown reason, had a particular aversion to

him, and ordered me in future to remain with my servants near him, and

charged his cousin, Osman Wad Adam, to look after me. Nevertheless,

every now and then, I used to see Saleh Wad el Mek, who was kept

informed of all that was happening in the Nile districts.

Just before arriving at Sherkéla, strange rumours were spread about

that an Egyptian who was a Christian had arrived at El Obeid, and was

now on his way to overtake the Mahdi. Some believed him to be the

Emperor of France; others affirmed that he was closely related to the

Queen of England. However, there was no doubt a European was coming, and

I was naturally most anxious to know who he could be. That evening, the

Khalifa told me a Frenchman had arrived at El Obeid, and that he had

sent orders for him to be brought to the Mahdi. "Do you belong to the

French race?" said he to me, "or are there different tribes in your

country, as there are here with us in the Sudan?"--he had not, of

course, the slightest knowledge of Europe and the European nations, and

I enlightened him as far as I thought necessary. "But what should a

Frenchman want with us, that he should come all that long distance?"

asked the Khalifa, inquiringly; "possibly God has converted him, and has

led him to the right way." "Perhaps," said I, "he is seeking your and

the Mahdi's friendship." The Khalifa looked at me incredulously, and

said curtly, "We shall see."

At length, we reached Sherkéla; and, scarcely had we halted, when my

master sent for me, and said, "Abdel Kader, the French traveller has

arrived; I have now ordered him to be brought before me. You had better

wait and listen to what he has to say; I may want you--" Almost

immediately afterwards, Hussein Pasha came in, and he too had evidently

been summoned by the Khalifa. After waiting some little time longer, a

mulazem announced that the stranger was waiting outside the hut; and he

was at once admitted. He was a tall, young-looking man, about thirty

years of age, I should say, and his face was much bronzed by the sun; he

had a fair beard and moustache, and wore a jibba and turban. He greeted

the Khalifa with "Salam aleikum;" and the latter, who did not rise from

his angareb, merely motioned him to be seated. "Why have you come here;

and what do you want from us?" were the Khalifa's first words to him; he

replied, in such broken Arabic that it was difficult to understand,

that he was a Frenchman, and had come from France. "Speak in your own

language with Abdel Kader," interrupted the Khalifa, "and he will

explain to me what you want." The stranger now turned and looked at me

distrustfully, saying, in English, "Good day, sir." "Do you speak

French?" said I, "my name is Slatin. Stick to business entirely now,

and, later on, we can speak privately." "What are you talking about

together," muttered the Khalifa, in an annoyed tone, "I wish to know

what he wants."

"I only told him my name," said I, "and urged him to speak openly to

you, as both you and the Mahdi are men to whom God has granted the power

to read the thoughts of others." Hussein Khalifa, who was sitting beside

me, now broke in, "That is true, indeed! May God prolong the Khalifa's

life;" and then, turning to me, he said, "you did well to call this

stranger's attention to the fact." The Khalifa, appeased and flattered,

now said, "Well, try and find out the truth."

"My name is Olivier Pain," said the stranger, whom I had now told to

talk in French, "and I am a Frenchman. Since I was quite a boy I was

interested in the Sudan, and sympathised with its people; it is not only

I, but all my compatriots, who feel the same. In Europe there are

nations with whom we are at feud; one of these is the English nation

which has now settled in Egypt, and one of whose generals, Gordon, is

now commanding in Khartum. I have therefore come to offer you my

assistance, and that of my nation."

"What assistance?" interrupted the Khalifa, to whom I was translating

word for word Olivier Pain's statement.

"I can only offer you advice," said Pain; "but my nation, which is

anxious to gain your friendship, is ready to help you practically with

arms and money, under certain conditions."

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

he had said.

"Yes, certainly," said he; "I have been of this faith for a long time,

and at El Obeid I openly acknowledged it."

"Well," said the Khalifa, "you and Hussein can stay here with the

Frenchman, whilst I will go and let the Mahdi know, and I shall then

come back to you."

When the Khalifa had gone, I shook hands with Olivier Pain, and

introduced him to Hussein Khalifa; but I confess to feeling considerably

prejudiced against him by his offer to assist our enemies. However, I

urged him to be most careful, and to say that he had been induced to

come here rather out of love for religion than for political motives.

Even Hussein Pasha, who was evidently very much annoyed, said in Arabic

to me, "Is that what you call politics,--to offer money and arms to

people whose only object is to kill others, rob them of their property,

and enslave their wives and daughters? Yet if one of us, no matter how

poor he may be, buys a Black slave who is really little better than an

animal, except that he can till the ground, you call it wicked and

cruel, and punish us most severely."

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

We were now occupied with our own thoughts, whilst waiting for the

Khalifa's return; and at length he arrived, ordered us to make our

ablutions and prepare to attend the Mahdi's prayers. Having done so, the

Khalifa leading, we went to the place of worship, where there was an

immense concourse of people who, having heard of Olivier Pain's arrival,

were indulging in the wildest speculations about him. After we had taken

our places, Pain was directed to the second row, and the Mahdi now

arrived. He was dressed in his speckless and beautifully perfumed jibba;

his turban was more carefully folded than usual, and his eyes were well

painted with antimony, which gave them a more fiery expression. He had

evidently done his utmost to appear to the greatest possible advantage.

No doubt he was pleased and flattered that a man should have come from

so far to offer him assistance. He now sat himself down on his

prayer-carpet, and, calling up Olivier Pain before him, greeted him

with a very beaming smile, but did not shake hands with him, and, using

me as an interpreter, asked him to explain why he had come here.

Pain reiterated the same story as before, which the Mahdi told me to

repeat in a sufficiently loud voice for every one to hear; and, when I

had finished, he said, in an equally loud tone, "I have heard your

intentions, and have understood them; but I do not count on human

support, I rely on God and His Prophet. Your nation are unbelievers, and

I shall never ally myself with them. With God's help, I shall defeat my

enemies through my brave Ansar, and the hosts of angels sent to me by

the Prophet." Shouts of acclamation from thousands upon thousands of

throats greeted this speech; and, when order had been restored, the

Mahdi said to Pain, "You affirm that you love our faith, and acknowledge

that it is the true one; are you a Mohammedan?"

"Certainly," answered he, repeating the creed, "La ilaha illallah,

Mohammed Rasul Allah," in a loud voice. The Mahdi after this gave him

his hand to kiss, but did not administer the oath of allegiance.

We now took up our positions in the ranks of the faithful, and repeated

prayers with the Mahdi; and, that over, the Divine Master gave us one of

his usual sermons on salvation and renunciation. We then departed with

the Khalifa, who directed me to take Olivier Pain to my tent, and there

await further instructions.

Once alone with Pain in my tent, I could talk to him without fear of

interruption. I had the strongest aversion to his mission; but I pitied

the man who, if he thought to succeed in such an enterprise in this

country, was the victim of so absurd a delusion. I again greeted him

heartily, saying, "Now, my dear Mr. Olivier Pain, we shall be quite

undisturbed for a few minutes; let us speak frankly. Although I do not

agree with your mission, I assure you, on my word as an officer, I will

do all in my power to secure your personal safety. I have now been for

years an exile from the civilised world; tell me something about outside

affairs."

"I trust you thoroughly," he replied; "I know you well by name, and have

often heard of you, and I thank my good fortune which has brought me to

you. There is a great deal to tell you; but for the present I will

confine myself to Egypt, which must interest us most."

"Tell me then," said I, "all about the revolt of Ahmed Arabi Pasha,

about the massacres, about the intervention of the Powers, and about

England, which has just occupied Egypt."

"I," said he, "am working for the 'Indépendence' with Rochefort, of whom

you must have heard. England and France are politically antagonistic;

and we do what we can to put as many difficulties as possible in

England's way. I have not come here as a representative of my nation,

but as a private individual with, however, the knowledge and concurrence

of my nation. The English authorities, discovering my intentions, issued

a warrant of arrest against me, and I was sent back from Wadi Halfa; but

on my way down the river at Esna I agreed secretly with some Alighat

Arabs to bring me here by the road running west of Dongola, through El

Kaab, to El Obeid. To-day the Mahdi has received me most kindly, and I

hope for the best."

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

"Should my proposal be refused," he answered, "I still hope the Mahdi

will be induced to enter into friendly relations with France; for the

present that will be quite sufficient, and, as I have come here of my

own free will, I trust the Mahdi will not make my return impossible."

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

home?"

"Oh, yes," answered Pain, "I have left my wife and two children in

Paris; I often think of them, and hope to see them soon again. But tell

me, sir, frankly, why should I be detained?"

"My dear sir," I replied, "as far as I know these people, I do not think

you need at present have any fear for your own safety; but when and how

you are going to get away from them, it is beyond my power to say. What

I sincerely hope is, that your proposals, which may be advantageous to

the enemy,--and I admit these Mahdists are my most bitter enemies,--will

not be accepted, and I also hope they will allow you to return

unmolested to your wife and children, who must be anxiously awaiting

you."

Meanwhile I had told my servants to get us something to eat; and I had

sent for Gustav Klootz, O'Donovan's former servant, to share our meal

with us. We had scarcely begun, when two of the Khalifa's mulazemin

entered, and told Olivier Pain to follow them. He was much taken aback

at being called off alone, and, in a whisper, commended himself to me.

It also struck me as curious, for Pain's Arabic was quite

unintelligible. I was talking about this to Mustafa (Klootz), when I

also received a summons, and, on entering the Khalifa's hut, I found him

quite alone; he motioned to me to be seated, and I sat on the ground

beside him.

"Abdel Kader," said he, confidentially, "I look on you as one of us;

tell me what do you think of this Frenchman?"

"I believe he is sincere and means well," said I; "but he did not know

the Mahdi nor you; he did not understand that you trusted only in God,

and sought no support from other powers, and that this is the cause of

your continual victories, because God is with those who put their trust

in Him!"

"You heard the Mahdi's words," continued the Khalifa, "when he said to

the Frenchman that he wished to have nothing to do with unbelievers, and

that he could defeat his enemies without their help?"

"Most certainly I did," I replied; "and therefore the man is useless

here, and may as well return to his nation, and tell them about the

victories of the Mahdi and his commander-in-chief, the Khalifa."

"Perhaps later," said the Khalifa; "for the present, I have ordered him

to stay with Zeki Tummal, who will take all care of him, and attend to

his wants."

"But it will be very difficult for him to make himself understood in

Arabic," I pleaded; "he is by no means a good Arabic scholar yet."

"He has been able to get here without an interpreter," answered the

Khalifa; "however, you have my permission to visit him." He then talked

about other things, and showed me the horses Zogal had sent him from

Darfur, some of which I knew very well. After leaving my master, I went

in search of Pain, whom I found sitting under the shade of a very

battered old tent, his head resting on his hands, and evidently in deep

thought; when he saw me, he at once rose, saying, "I don't know what to

think about it all. I have been ordered to stay here; my baggage has

been brought, and I am told that a certain Zeki has been ordered to look

after me. Why don't they let me stay with you?"

"It is the Mahdi's nature; and the Khalifa is even worse in working his

will in contrariety to every human being under the sun. You are going

through a course of what they call 'putting one to the test in patience,

submission, and faith,'" said I, by way of sympathy; "but you need have

no fear. The Khalifa suspects us both, and is anxious to keep us apart,

so that we should not criticise his actions. Here comes Zeki Tummal. He

was with me in many a fight; I will strongly commend you to him." I had

now advanced to meet Zeki, who shook hands with me, and asked how I was.

"My friend," said I to him, "this is a stranger and your guest. I

recommend him to your kind care; be forbearing with him for old

acquaintance sake."

"I shall let him want for nothing as far as it is in my power to do so,"

he replied; and then, more slowly, he said, "but the Khalifa has told me

not to let him have any intercourse with others, and I therefore beg you

will come here only very occasionally."

"These orders do not apply to me," said I; "just this moment I left our

master's hut, and he has given me special permission to visit your

guest. So again I beg you to treat this poor man with all

consideration."

I then returned to Pain and tried to cheer him up, telling him that the

Khalifa had given orders he was not to be allowed to see other people;

but this, I said, was no disadvantage, for they would probably have used

the occasion to intrigue against him, and so put him in danger. As

regards myself, however, I said I would come to see him as often as

possible.

The next morning, the Khalifa's great war-drum, called "El Mansura" (the

victorious), was beaten; this was the signal for the march to begin

again, and off we started. We generally marched from early morning till

noon only, and thus our progress was not rapid. When we halted at

midday, I went to look for Pain, and found him sitting under his tent as

before; he appeared in good health, but complained about the bad food.

Zeki, who was present whilst we were speaking, said that he had twice

sent him some asida, but he would not touch it. I explained that he was

not, of course, accustomed to native food yet, and that therefore I

proposed getting my servant to prepare some food specially for him; and,

returning at once, I ordered him to make some soup and boil some rice,

and take it to Olivier Pain. That evening the Khalifa asked me if I had

seen him. I told him I had; but that, as he was not accustomed yet to

native food, I had ordered my servant to prepare something else. I

explained that if he were forced to eat the native food he might get

ill; and that therefore, with his permission, I proposed sending him,

every now and then, something special. The Khalifa assented. "But," said

he, "you eat of our food; it would therefore be better he should get

used to it as soon as possible. By-the-bye where is Mustafa? I have not

seen him since we left Rahad?"

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

and camels," said I.

"Then send for him," said the Khalifa. I did so; and in a few minutes he

entered and stood before us. "Where have you been? I have not seen you

for weeks," said the Khalifa, angrily. "Have you forgotten that I am

your master?"

"With your permission I went to Abdel Kader, whom I help in his work.

You do not care for me now, and have left me alone," replied Klootz, in

an annoyed tone.

"Then I will take good care of you in the future," cried the Khalifa,

still more angrily; and, calling in a mulazem, he ordered him to take

Mustafa to his clerk, Ben Naga, who should put him in chains. Mustafa,

without uttering a word, followed his guard.

"Mustafa and you," continued the Khalifa, "have servants enough; and you

can quite well do without him. I took him for myself; but he left me

without any cause. I then ordered that he should serve my brother Yakub;

but he complained and left him too; and now that he is with you, he

thinks he can dispense with us altogether."

"Pardon him," said I, "he is merciful who forgives. Let him stay with

your brother; perhaps he will improve."

"He must remain a few days in chains," he answered, "so that he may know

I am his master; he is not the same as you, who come every day to my

door;" this he evidently said to quiet me, as he thought I was getting

annoyed. He then ordered supper to be brought in; and I ate more than

usual, so that he should not imagine I was doing anything contrary to

his orders. He talked very little during the meal, and seemed out of

spirits. After supper he made an attempt to say something kind; but I

felt that his words belied him. We then separated, and, as I returned to

my tent, I thought over the situation. I had resolved to remain on as

good terms as I could with the Khalifa, until the hour of my deliverance

should come; but his imperious character, want of consideration, and

immense self-conceit made my task a most difficult one. I had daily

before my eyes the examples of several mulazemin whom he had thrown into

chains, flogged, and deprived of their property (known as "tegrid") on

the slightest provocation. He judged very quickly, being actuated

entirely by his feelings at the moment, and loved to show that he was

master. I will now give an example of the sort of man I had to deal

with.

Abu Anga, the commander of the Black troops (Jehadia), and his brother,

Fadl Maula, who was his assistant, were both sons of a liberated slave

who had borne them to one of the Khalifa's relatives. Fadl Maula had a

great friend and adviser in Ahmed Wad Yunes of the Shaigia tribe, and

these two presented themselves before the Khalifa one day, when Fadl

Maula asked his master's permission for Yunes to marry a certain girl,

and give him his blessing. It happened, however, that the Khalifa was in

a bad humour, and wished to show his authority; so he immediately

ordered the girl's father to be brought before him, and asked him, in

the presence of the others, if he wished to give his daughter in

marriage to Yunes; and, on the man answering in the affirmative, the

Khalifa said, "I have decided, and consider it to the girl's advantage

that she should marry Fadl Maula. Have you any objection?" Of course the

girl's father had to assent, and, without a moment's hesitation, the

Khalifa, turning to his attendants, ordered them to read the marriage

"Fatha," or form of prayer and blessing on marriage. This was done, and

dates were partaken of. The Khalifa then dismissed all those present,

and Fadl Maula departed one wife to the good, whilst Yunes was one hope

the poorer; but what the girl said about the new arrangement, I cannot

tell.

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

After five days' march, we reached Shatt, where most of the wells were

filled up, and had to be reopened, and several straw huts erected; for

the Mahdi had decided to halt here for some days. During the march, I

frequently visited Pain, who daily grew more and more disheartened about

the situation. He knew very little Arabic, and was not permitted to talk

to any one but the slaves charged with looking after him. In a few

days, the object of his mission had vanished from his mind, and he

thought now only of his wife and children. I urged him to look more

hopefully on the future, and not to give way to depressing thoughts

which would only make him more miserable. The Khalifa seemed to have

almost forgotten his existence, and scarcely ever asked for him.

The day after our arrival at Shatt, the Mahdi's former Sheikh, Mohammed

Sherif, who had been expected for so long, at length arrived. He also

had been forced by his friends, and by fear, to come to the Mahdi as a

penitent; but the latter received him most honourably, and himself led

him to the tents he had specially pitched for him, and also presented

him with two exceptionally pretty Abyssinian girls, horses, etc. By this

generous treatment, the Mahdi attracted to himself almost all Mohammed

Sherif's secret adherents.

In the course of time, the Khalifa forgave Mustafa, allowed him to live

with his clerk Ben Naga, and permitted him to talk to me.

Just at the time we left Sherkéla, news arrived that Gordon's troops had

suffered a severe reverse; and now in Shatt we received the detailed

accounts of the overthrow of Mohammed Ali Pasha at Om Debban by the

Sheikh El Obeid.

It appeared that when Gordon had defeated the Halfaya rebels at Buri, he

despatched Mohammed Ali with two thousand men to disperse the Mahdists

collected at Om Debban, the village of the Sheikh El Obeid. Mohammed

Ali's career had been very rapid: at his own request he had left me in

Darfur with the rank of adjutant-major; Gordon had promoted him to

major; and, during the siege, he had risen to the rank of colonel, and

soon afterwards to that of general. The force which he commanded against

the Sheikh El Obeid was composed mostly of irregulars, and he was

accompanied by crowds of women and slaves seeking for plunder. When on

the march between El Eilafun and Om Debban, he was attacked suddenly

from all sides, and his force was almost entirely annihilated; only a

few escaped to bring the sad news to Khartum, where the grief was

intense, and to Gordon it must have indeed been a terrible blow.

This success had encouraged the rebels to press the siege more closely;

and now, reinforced as they were by Wad en Nejumi and his hosts, Gordon

found himself not strong enough to make a successful attack on the

Mahdists.

From Shatt we now advanced to Duem, where the Mahdi held an enormous

review; and, pointing to the Nile, he said, "God has created this river;

He will give you its waters to drink, and you shall become the

possessors of all the lands along its banks." This speech was greeted

with shouts of joy by these wild fanatics, who at once believed that the

wonderful land of Egypt was to be their prey.

From Duem we proceeded to Tura el Hadra, where we spent the Feast of

Great Bairam; Olivier Pain was suffering from fever, and was growing

more and more depressed. "I have tried many ventures in my life," said

he, "without thinking much beforehand of the consequences; but my coming

here was a fatal mistake. It would have been very much better for me if

the English had succeeded in preventing me from carrying out my design."

I did my best to comfort him, but he only shook his head.

At the Feast of Bairam, the Mahdi repeated prayers in an unusually loud

voice; and when he read the "Khutba," he wept long and bitterly. We

unbelievers well knew that this weeping was hypocrisy, and boded no

good; but it had the desired effect on the fanatical crowds who had

flocked to his banners from the river tribes, and who were roused by

this touching sermon to the highest pitch of enthusiasm.

After a halt of two days, we again moved on, creeping forward like a

great tortoise, so swelled were we by the thousands upon thousands who

were now joining daily from every part of the Sudan. Poor Olivier had

grown considerably worse; his fever had turned to typhus. He begged me

to induce the Mahdi to let him have some money, as he was so pestered by

the begging appeals of his attendants. I went to him, and explained

Pain's condition; and the Mahdi at once sent to the Beit el Mal for £5,

and wished the sick man a speedy recovery. I had also told the Khalifa

of Pain's serious illness, and that the Mahdi had given him £5; but he

blamed me for having asked for it without his permission, adding, "If he

dies here, he is a happy man. God in His goodness and omnipotence has

converted him from an unbeliever to a believer."

Early in the morning, at the end of the first week in October, I was

sent for by Pain, and found him so weak that he could not stand up. For

two days he had not touched the food I had sent him; and, placing his

hand in mine, he said, "My last hour has come; I thank you for your

great kindness and care of me. The last favour I have to ask of you is

this: when you escape from the hands of these barbarous people, and you

happen to go to Paris, tell my unfortunate wife and children my dying

thoughts were for them." As he said these words, tears rolled down the

poor man's hollow and sunken cheeks. Again I tried to comfort him,

saying that it was too soon to give up hope; and as the war-drum was

beating for the advance, I had to hurry away and leave him. It was the

last time I saw him alive. I left behind with him one of my servants

named "Atrun" (Natron), and during the march I told the Khalifa of

Pain's condition, urging him to leave the poor man behind at some

village where he might have a few days' rest; he told me to remind him

of it that evening. The evening came, but no sick man arrived; Atrun

came alone. "Where is Yusef?" (this was Pain's Mohammedan name), said I,

for the boy seemed much agitated. "My master is dead," he answered; "and

that is the reason we are so late." "Dead!" said I. "Yes, dead and

buried," replied Atrun.

"Tell me at once what has happened," I asked. "My master Yusef was so

weak," said he, "that he could not ride; but we had to go on marching.

Every now and then he lost consciousness; then he would come to again

and talk words we could not understand. So we tied an angareb on to the

saddle, and laid him on it; but he was too weak to hold on, and he fell

down suddenly and very heavily. After this he did not come to again, and

he was soon dead; so we wrapped him up in his farda [cotton shawl], and

buried him, and all his effects were taken to Zeki by his slaves."

Olivier Pain was undoubtedly very seriously ill; but the fall was

probably the immediate cause of his sudden death. Poor man! with what a

high sounding mission he had come; and now this was the end of it all! I

immediately went to the Khalifa, and reported his death to him. "He is a

happy man," was his curt remark; he then despatched a mulazem to warn

Zeki to have all his effects carefully kept, and he sent me to the Mahdi

to apprise him of his end. The latter took it to heart much more than

the Khalifa, said several sympathetic words, and repeated the prayers

for the dead.

After three days, we reached the neighbourhood of Khartum, and halted at

a place about one day's journey from the city. On our way, we had seen

Gordon's steamers in the distance; they had come up evidently to watch

our movements, and had returned again without firing.

It was evening, and we had just finished pitching camp, when a mulazem

of the Mahdi arrived, and directed me to follow him; I went at once, and

found him sitting with Abdel Kader Wad Om Mariam, formerly Kadi of

Kalakla, and a man who exercised a great influence on the people of the

White Nile. Hussein Khalifa was also there; and I formed the fourth of

the party.

"I have sent for you," said the Mahdi, "to tell you to write to Gordon

to save himself from certain defeat. Tell him that I am the true Mahdi,

and that he ought to surrender with his garrison, and thus save himself

and his soul. Tell him also, that if he refuses to obey, we shall every

one of us fight against him. Say that you yourself will fight against

him with your own hands. Say that victory will be ours, and that you

merely tell him this in order to avoid useless bloodshed."

I remained silent till Hussein Khalifa called on me to answer. "O

Mahdi!" said I, "listen, I beg of you, to my words. I will be honest and

faithful; and I pray you to forgive me, if what I say is not pleasing to

you. If I write to Gordon that you are the true Mahdi, he will not

believe me; and if I threaten to fight against him with my own hands, he

will not be afraid of that. Now as you desire, under any circumstances,

to avoid shedding blood, I shall simply summon him to surrender. I shall

say that he is not strong enough to attempt to fight against you who are

ever-victorious, as he has no hope of help from outside; and, finally, I

shall say that I will be the intermediary between you and him."

"I accept your sincere proposal," said the Mahdi; "go now and write the

letters, and to-morrow they shall be despatched to Gordon."

I now returned to my quarters. My tent, owing to the difficulties of

transport, had been torn to shreds, and I had made a present of the rags

to some one; I had in place of it stretched some strips of cloth on

sticks, and thus provided a slight shade for myself during the daytime,

whilst at night I slept in the open. Searching about for a lantern, I

wrote the letters seated on an angareb under the open sky. First I wrote

a few lines to Gordon in French, explaining that I was writing to him

fully in German because, my French Dictionary having been burnt by the

Mahdists, who thought it was a Prayer Book, I did not feel capable of

expressing myself as I wished in that language. I said that I hoped I

should soon have an opportunity of joining him; and I prayed God that he

might be successful. I also mentioned that some of the Shaigias who had

recently joined the Mahdi did so to save their wives and children, and

not because they entertained any feelings of hostility towards Gordon.

I then wrote a long letter to him in German, saying that I had learnt

through George Calamatino that he was annoyed at my capitulation, and

that therefore I took the liberty of placing the facts of the case

before him, begging him to form his opinion accordingly. I began by

recalling my campaigns against Sultan Harun and Dud Benga, and

explaining how, on the outbreak of the Mahdi revolt, the few officers

left, believing that Arabi Pasha had succeeded in driving the Europeans

out of the country, had spread reports that my recent defeats lay in the

fact that I was a Christian; how I had stifled the injurious effects of

these intrigues by giving out that I was a Mohammedan; and how I had, by

this means, been subsequently successful until the annihilation of

Hicks' army had cut off all hope of relief. I told him how my constant

fights had reduced my available force to some seven hundred men; that my

stock of ammunition was well-nigh exhausted; that both officers and men

desired capitulation: and what therefore could I do--a European and

alone--but submit. I told him how this surrender had been one of the

hardest acts of my life; but that as an Austrian officer I felt that I

had not acted in a dishonourable manner. I then went on to say that by

obedient and submissive behaviour I had in some measure gained the

confidence of the Mahdi and the Khalifa, and had obtained their

permission to write to him, on the pretext that I was asking him to

surrender; but that, instead, I availed myself of this opportunity to

offer him my services in order to assure him that I was ready to

conquer, or die with him, if God willed, an honourable death. Should he

agree to be an accessory to my escape to Khartum, I begged him to write

me a few lines in French to that effect; but, in order to carry through

the ruse, I suggested that he should also write me a few lines in

Arabic, asking me to obtain the Mahdi's permission to come to Omdurman,

in order to discuss with him the conditions of surrender. I went on to

tell him that Saleh Bey and several of the Sheikhs wished to express

their loyalty and devotion to him; but that, under the circumstances,

it was impossible for them to come to him, as, by so doing, they would

necessarily sacrifice their wives and children.

I now wrote a third letter, in German, to Consul Hansal, asking him to

do his utmost to arrange that I should re-enter Khartum, as, being

thoroughly cognisant of the Mahdi's plans, intentions, strength, etc., I

believed I could be of great service to General Gordon; but, at the same

time, as rumours had been in circulation in the Mahdi's camp that, if

relief should not soon come, Gordon intended to surrender the town, and

as at that time I was quite ignorant of Gordon's prospects of relief, I

begged Consul Hansal to inform me of this, as, in the event of the town

being surrendered subsequent to my having entered Khartum, I should

naturally be the Mahdi's lawful victim on which to vent all his anger at

my escape and my efforts to aid his enemies.

It seemed to me that it was quite reasonable on my part to seek some

such assurance. At the same time, rumours being current in the camp that

the Khartum garrison were much out of heart and wished to surrender, I

strongly urged Hansal in my letter not to feel discouraged, pointing out

that the Mahdi's forces were not so numerous as he imagined, and that it

only required energy and perseverance on the part of the Egyptian troops

to be eventually successful, and I urged that they should wait at least

six weeks, or two months, longer before submitting, so as to give the

relief expedition a chance of saving them.[12]

I also told him there was a rumour in camp that the small steamer which

had been sent to Dongola had been wrecked at Wadi Gamr; but that I was

not at present in a position to say whether it was true or not.

Early the next morning, the 15th October, I took these letters to the

Mahdi and he told me to send them by one of my boys to Omdurman. I at

once went and fetched Morgan Fur, a boy of about fifteen years of age,

and handed him the letters in the Mahdi's presence; and the latter

ordered Wad Suleiman to give him a donkey and some money. Before sending

him off, I gave him the most strict injunctions to speak to no one in

Khartum except to Gordon Pasha and Consul Hansal, and to assure them

that I wished to come to them.

At midday, some horsemen arrived from Berber, confirming the news of the

wreck of the steamer, and of the murder of Colonel Stewart, and those

with him. The men brought with them all the papers and documents found

on board; and I was ordered by the Khalifa to examine those written in

European languages in Ahmed Wad Suleiman's office. Amongst them, I found

several private letters from people in Khartum, as well as official

documents and records. The most important of these was, of course, the

military report describing the daily occurrences in Khartum; it was

unsigned, but I had no doubt it was General Gordon's. A portion only of

the correspondence, etc., was shown to me; and before I had had time to

peruse it fully, I was again summoned before the Mahdi, who asked me

what the contents were. I replied, that most of them were private

letters, and that there was a military report, which I did not

understand. Unfortunately amongst the captured correspondence were

numbers of Arabic letters and reports, from which the Mahdi and the

Khalifa were able to thoroughly grasp the situation in Khartum. There

was also a half-cyphered Arabic telegram from General Gordon to His

Highness the Khedive, which Abdel Halim Effendi, formerly head clerk in

Kordofan, was able to decypher. Amongst the consular reports, I found a

notice of the death in Khartum of my old friend Ernst Marno, who had

succumbed to fever.

The Mahdi now discussed, in my presence, what papers should be sent to

Gordon, in order to convince him that the steamer had been wrecked, and

Colonel Stewart and the others killed, thinking that this would force

Gordon to surrender. I pointed out that the only document likely to

convince Gordon, was his military report, which I suggested should be

returned; and, after a long discussion, it was decided to send it.

The crowds accompanying the Mahdi were now complaining greatly of the

want of corn and dhurra; the price of an ardeb had risen to eighteen

medjidie dollars, which were then equivalent to about nine pounds

sterling. This extraordinary rate of exchange had been brought about by

the scarcity of dollars, in consequence of which the treasurer had

ordered the money captured at Berber--some £70,000 to £80,000 in

gold--to be sent to the Mahdi's camp; and this had been distributed. At

times, a sovereign valued even as little as a dollar and a half. Though

dhurra was so expensive, the prices of sheep and cattle were unusually

low,--a good ox or cow could be purchased for a dollar and a half or two

dollars, and a calf for half a dollar. This arose from the fact that an

immense number of cattle-owning Arabs had immigrated with the Mahdi from

the west, and had brought their flocks and herds with them to the river;

here the pasturage was quite insufficient for such quantities of

animals. The Mahdi had therefore preached a sermon to the herdsmen, to

the effect that tending flocks and herds, at the present time, was a

useless occupation, and that all their attention should now be centred

on fighting the religious war; consequently these ignorant people

followed his advice, and sold their cattle at these absurdly low rates.

The next evening, my boy Morgan returned from his mission, but brought

no reply. When I inquired how this was, he said, he had reached Omdurman

fort, had delivered his letters, and, after waiting for a short time,

the commandant had told him to return, as there was no answer. I at once

took the boy to the Mahdi, to whom he repeated what had occurred; and

afterwards I went and informed the Khalifa. That same evening, the Mahdi

again summoned me, and ordered me to write another letter, which he said

Gordon would be sure to answer, when he heard of the loss of the

steamer. I at once expressed myself ready to carry out his wishes; and

he directed that my boy Morgan should again act as messenger. Once more

I betook myself to my angareb, and, by the flickering light of an old

lantern, scribbled another letter, reporting the loss of the steamer,

the death of Stewart, and repeating much of what I had said in my first

letters, adding that if, in his opinion, I had done anything contrary to

the honour of an officer, and if that had hindered him from writing to

me, I begged he would give me a chance of defending myself, and thus

give himself an opportunity of coming to a correct judgment.

Early the next morning, I went again with Morgan to the Mahdi; the

latter ordered Ahmed Wad Suleiman to supply him with a donkey, and,

taking my letter, he went off, returning the following morning with a

reply from Consul Hansal, written in German, with an Arabic translation;

it ran as follows:--

DEAR FRIEND SLATIN BEY,--Your letters have been duly received,

and I request you will come to Tabia Ragheb Bey [Omdurman fort].

I wish to speak to you about the steps to be taken for our

rescue; you may then return unmolested to your friend.

Yours very truly,

(Signed) HANSAL.

This letter puzzled me somewhat; I could not be sure if it was written

with the object merely of deceiving the Mahdi, in which case the Arabic

was amply sufficient for the purpose; but I thought he might have

written more clearly in German, though perhaps he conceived there might

have been some one else with the Mahdi who understood that language, and

I might have been thereby endangered. Then, taking the letter literally,

he seemed to hint at joining us himself,--indeed we had already heard

rumours that he, becoming alarmed at the probable fall of the town,

wished to submit with the other Austrian subjects to the Mahdi; but it

was of course quite impossible to say if he meant this or not. Then

again, as regards my joining Gordon in Khartum, could he really mean

that the latter had refused to listen to my request, or was his

expression that I "may then return unmolested to my friend" merely meant

as a blind to the Mahdi?--I confess I was utterly perplexed; my

suspense, however, was not of long duration.

I at once took the letter to the Mahdi, and explained to him that the

Arabic text exactly corresponded with the German original. When he had

finished reading it, he asked me if I wished to go, and I replied that I

was ready to comply with his orders, and that my services were always at

his disposal.

"I am rather afraid," said he, "that if you go to Omdurman to speak to

your Consul, Gordon may arrest or kill you. Why did he not write to you

himself, if he thinks well of you?"

"I do not know why he is so silent," said I; "perhaps it is contrary to

his orders to enter into communication with us; however, when I meet

Hansal I may be able to arrange matters. You say you are afraid Gordon

might arrest me; but I am not, and even if he did I am quite sure you

could release me; but as to his killing me, that is altogether out of

the question."

"Well," said the Mahdi, "get yourself ready to go, and I will let you

know."

On my way to the Mahdi's hut, I had heard of Lupton Bey's arrival from

Bahr el Ghazal; and now, on my way back, I went in search of him, and

found him outside the Khalifa's door waiting to be received. Although it

was against rules to speak to any one before he had received the Mahdi's

pardon, I could not resist greeting him heartily, and, in a few words,

told him about the letters; and he said he earnestly hoped I might be

allowed to go to Khartum. He told me he had left his servants and the

rest of his people at some hours' distance, and he asked me to obtain

the Khalifa's permission for them to come in. A few minutes afterwards,

he was summoned before the Khalifa, obtained his pardon, was told that

he might go and bring in his people, and that he would be presented to

the Mahdi on his return.