A few days after the return of headquarters to Berber, Mahmud was sent
down country, and Fatma was permitted to accompany him. She expressed
to Gregory, in touching terms, her gratitude for what he had done for
her.
"We have been of mutual assistance," said Gregory. "I have the same
reason to be grateful to you, as you have to thank me. I saved your
life, and you saved mine. You were very kind to me, when I was a
captive--I have done as much as I could for you, since you have been
with us. So we are quits. I hope you will be happy with Mahmud. We do
not treat our prisoners badly, and except that he will be away from the
Soudan, he will probably be more comfortable than he has ever been in
his life."
Gregory was now employed in the transport department, and journeyed
backwards and forwards, with large convoys of camels, to the head of
the railway. The line was completed to Berber, but the officers charged
with its construction were indefatigable; and, as fast as the materials
came up, it was pushed on towards the Atbara. Complete as had been the
victory on that river, the Sirdar saw that the force which had been
sufficient to defeat the twenty thousand men, under Mahmud, was not
sufficiently strong for the more onerous task of coping with three
times that number, fighting under the eye of the Khalifa, and certain
to consist of his best and bravest troops. He therefore telegraphed
home for another British brigade, and additional artillery, with at
least one regiment of cavalry--an arm in which the Egyptian Army was
weak.
Preparations were at once made for complying with the request. The 21st
Lancers, 1st battalion of Grenadier Guards, 2nd battalion of the Rifle
Brigade, 2nd battalion of the 5th Lancashire Fusiliers, a field
battery, a howitzer battery, and two forty-pounders, to batter the
defences of Omdurman, should the Khalifa take his stand, were sent. A
strong detachment of the Army Service Corps and the Royal Army Medical
Corps was to accompany them, but they had yet some months to wait, for
the advance would not be made until the Nile was full, and the gunboats
could ascend the cataract.
However, there was much to be done, and the troops did not pass the
time in idleness. Atbara Fort was to be the base, and here the Egyptian
battalions built huts and storehouses. The Soudanese brigades returned
to Berber, and the transport of provisions and stores for them was thus
saved. The British at Darmali were made as comfortable as possible, and
no effort was spared to keep them in good health, during the ensuing
hot weather. A small theatre was constructed, and here smoking concerts
were held. There was also a race meeting, and one of the steamers took
parties, of the men who were most affected by the heat, for a trip down
the Nile. They were practised in long marches early in the morning, and
although, of course, there was some illness, the troops on the whole
bore the heat well.
Had there been a prospect of an indefinitely long stay, the result
might have been otherwise; but they knew that, in a few months, they
would be engaged in even sterner work than the last battle, that
Khartoum was their goal, and with its capture the power of the Khalifa
would be broken for ever, and Gordon avenged.
Early in April the railway reached Abadia, a few miles from Berber, and
in a short time a wonderful transformation took place here. From a
sandy desert, with scarce a human being in sight, it became the scene
of a busy industry. Stores were sorted and piled as they came up by
rail.
Three gunboats arrived in sections, and these were put together. They
were stronger, and much better defended by steel plates than the first
gunboats; and each of them carried two six-pounder quick-firing guns, a
small howitzer, four Maxims, and a searchlight. They were, however,
much slower than the old boats, and could do very little in the way of
towing.
Besides these, eight steel double-deck troop barges were brought up, in
sections, and put together. Three Egyptian battalions came up from
Merawi to aid in the work, which not only included building the
gunboats and barges, but executing the repairs to all the native craft,
and putting them in a thoroughly serviceable state.
In June the railway reached the Atbara, and for the first time for two
years and a half, the officers who had superintended its construction
had a temporary rest. The stores were now transferred from Abadia to
the Atbara, and two trains ran every day, each bringing up something
like two hundred tons of stores.
In the middle of July two Egyptian battalions left Atbara and proceeded
up the Nile, one on each bank, cutting down trees and piling them for
fuel for the steamers. As the river rose, four steamers came up from
Dongola, together with a number of sailing boats; and in the beginning
of August the whole flotilla, consisting of ten gunboats, five unarmed
steamers, eight troop barges, and three or four hundred sailing boats,
were all assembled.
By this time the reinforcements from home were all at Cairo, and their
stores had already been sent up. It was arranged that they were to come
by half battalions, by squadrons, and by batteries, each one day behind
the other. To make room for them, two Egyptian battalions were sent up
to the foot of the Shabluka cataract.
The six black battalions left Berber on July 30th, and arrived at
Atbara the next day. There were now four brigades in the infantry
divisions instead of three, two battalions having been raised from the
Dervishes taken at the battle of Atbara. These were as eager as any to
join in the fight against their late comrades.
This was scarcely surprising. The Baggara, the tyrants of the desert,
are horsemen. The infantry were, for the most part, drawn from the
conquered tribes. They had enlisted in the Khalifa's force partly
because they had no other means of subsistence, partly from their
innate love of fighting. They had, in fact, been little better than
slaves; and their condition, as soldiers in the Egyptian Army, was
immeasurably superior to that which they had before occupied.
Broadwood, with nine squadrons of Egyptian cavalry, was already on the
western bank of the river opposite Atbara; and was to be joined at
Metemmeh by the camel corps, and another squadron of horse from Merawi.
On the 3rd of August the six Soudanese battalions left Fort Atbara for
the point of concentration, a few miles below the cataract. To the
sides of each gunboat were attached two of the steel barges; behind
each were two native craft. All were filled as tightly as they could be
crammed with troops. They were packed as in slavers, squatting by the
side of each other as closely as sardines in a box. The seven steamers
and the craft they took with them contained six thousand men, so
crowded that a spectator remarked that planks might have been laid on
their heads, and that you could have walked about on them; while
another testified that he could not have shoved a walking stick between
them anywhere. White men could not have supported it for an hour, but
these blacks and Egyptians had a hundred miles to go, and the steamers
could not make more than a knot an hour against the rapid stream, now
swollen to its fullest.
While they were leaving, the first four companies of the Rifle Brigade
arrived. Every day boats laden with stores went forward, every day
white troops came up. Vast as was the quantity of stores sent off, the
piles at Atbara did not seem to diminish. Ninety days' provisions,
forage, and necessaries for the whole force had been accumulated there,
and as fast as these were taken away they were replaced by others from
Berber.
Like everyone connected with the transport or store department, Gregory
had to work from daybreak till dark. Accustomed to a warm climate,
light in figure, without an ounce of spare flesh, he was able to
support the heat, dust, and fatigue better than most; and, as he
himself said, it was less trying to be at work, even in the blazing
sun, than to lie listless and sweating under the shade of a blanket.
There was no necessity, now, to go down the line to make enquiries as
to the progress of the stores, or of the laden craft on their way up.
the telegraph was established, and the Sirdar, at Atbara, knew the
exact position of every one of the units between Cairo and himself; and
from every station he received messages constantly, and despatched his
orders as frequently.
There was no hitch, whatever. The arrangements were all so perfect that
the vast machine, with its numerous parts, moved with the precision of
clockwork. Everything was up to time. For a train or steamer, or even a
native boat, to arrive half an hour after the time calculated for it,
was almost unheard of.
The Sirdar's force of will seemed to communicate itself to every
officer under him, and it is safe to say that never before was an
expedition so perfectly organized, and so marvellously carried out. At
Atbara the Sirdar saw to everything himself. A brief word of
commendation, to those working under him, cheered them through long
days of toil--an equally curt reproof depressed them to the depths.
Twice, when Gregory was directing some of the blacks piling large
cases, as they were emptied from the train; anathematizing the stupid,
urging on the willing, and himself occasionally lending a hand in order
to show how it should be done; the Sirdar, who, unknown to him, had
been looking on, rode up and said shortly, "You are doing well, Mr.
Hilliard!"--and he felt that his offence of jumping overboard had been
condoned.
General Hunter, himself indefatigable, had more occasion to notice
Gregory's work; and his commendations were frequent, and warm.
The lad had not forgotten the object with which he had come to the
front. After Atbara, he had questioned many of the prisoners who, from
their age, might have fought at El Obeid; but none of these had done
so. The forces of the Khalifa came and went, as there was occasion for
them. The Baggara were always under arms, but only when danger
threatened were the great levies of foot assembled; for it would have
been impossible, in the now desolate state of the Soudan, to find food
for an army of a hundred thousand men.
All agreed, however, that, with the exception of the Egyptian
artillerymen, they heard that no single white man had escaped. Numbers
of the black soldiers had been made slaves. The whites had
perished--all save one had fallen on the field. That one had
accompanied a black battalion, who had held together and, repulsing all
attacks, had marched away. They had been followed, however, and after
repeated attacks had dwindled away, until they had finally been broken
and massacred.
With the Khalifa's army were several emirs who had fought at El Obeid;
and these would, no doubt, be able to tell him more; but none of those
who were taken prisoners, at the Atbara, had heard of any white man
having escaped the slaughter of Hicks's army.
Just as the general movement began, the force was joined by three
companies of Soudanese. These had marched from Suakim to Berber, two
hundred and eighty-eight miles, in fifteen days, an average of nineteen
miles a day--a record for such a march, and one that no European force
could have performed. One day, after marching thirty miles, they came
to a well and found it dry, and had to march thirty miles farther to
another water hole, a feat probably altogether without precedent.
"You had better fall back upon your old work, Hilliard," the General
said, the day before they started. "As my aide I shall find plenty for
you to do, now that I command the whole division."
"Thank you very much, sir! I don't think that I shall find any work
hard, after what I have been doing for the past four months."
"You have got your horse?"
"Yes; he is in good condition, for I have had no riding to do, for some
time."
"Well, you had better get him on board one of the gyasses we shall tow
up, tomorrow. All our horses will embark this evening. We shall be on
board at daybreak. Our private camels are going with the marching
column; you had better put yours with them. No doubt they will join us
somewhere. Of course, your kit will be carried with us."
It was a delight to Gregory to be on the water again. There was
generally a cool breeze on the river, and always an absence of dust. He
was now halfway between seventeen and eighteen, but the sun had tanned
him to a deep brown, and had parched his face; thus adding some years
to his appearance, so that the subalterns of the newly-arrived
regiments looked boyish beside him. The responsibilities of his work
had steadied him, and though he retained his good spirits, his laugh
had lost the old boyish ring. The title of Bimbashi, which had seemed
absurd to him seven months before, was now nothing out of the way, for
he looked as old as many of the British subalterns serving with that
rank in the Egyptian army.
Returning to the little hut that Zaki, with the aid of some of the
blacks, had built for him; he gave his orders, and in a short time the
camel--a very good one, which he had obtained in exchange for that
which he had handed over to the transport--started, with its driver, to
join those that were to carry up the baggage and stores of General
Hunter, and his staff. These were in charge of a sergeant and three
privates, of one of the Soudanese battalions. Gregory had got up a case
of whisky, one of bottled fruit, and a stock of tea and sugar from
Berber. No tents could be carried, and he left his tente d'abri at the
stores with his canteen; taking on board, in his own luggage, a plate,
knife, fork, and spoon, and a couple of tumblers. When the camels had
started, he saw his horse put on board, and then took a final stroll
round the encampment.
The change that had occurred there, during the past fortnight, was
striking. Then none but black faces could be seen. Now it was the
encampment of a British force, with its white tents and all their
belongings.
The contrast between the newly-arrived brigade, and the hardy veterans
who had fought at the Atbara, was striking. Bronzed and hearty, inured
to heat and fatigue, the latter looked fit to go anywhere and do
anything, and there was hardly a sick man in the four regiments. On the
other hand, the newcomers looked white and exhausted with the heat.
Numbers had already broken down, and the doctors at the hospital had
their hands full of fever patients. They had scarcely marched a mile
since they landed in Egypt, and were so palpably unfit for hard work
that they were, if possible, to proceed the whole way in boats, in
order to be in fighting condition when the hour of battle arrived.
The voyage up the river was an uneventful one. It seemed all too short
to Gregory, who enjoyed immensely the rest, quiet, and comparative
coolness. The Sirdar had gone up a week before they landed at Wady
Hamed. Here the whole Egyptian portion of the army, with the exception
of the brigade that was to arrive the next day, was assembled. The
blacks had constructed straw huts; the Egyptians erected shelters,
extemporized from their blankets; while the British were to be
installed in tents, which had been brought up in sailing boats. The
camp was two miles in length and half a mile wide, surrounded by a
strong zareba.
The Egyptian cavalry and the camel corps had arrived. On the opposite
side of the river was a strong body of friendly Arabs, nominally under
the Abadar sheik, but in reality commanded by Major Montague
Stuart-Wortley. By the 23rd of August the whole force had arrived; and
the Sirdar reviewed them, drawn up in battle array, and put them
through a few manoeuvres, as if in action. General Gatacre commanded
the British division--Colonel Wauchope the first brigade, and Lyttleton
the second. As before, Macdonald, Maxwell, and Lewis commanded the
first three Egyptian brigades, and Collinson that newly raised, General
Hunter being in command of the division.
The force numbered, in all, about twenty thousand; and although
destitute of the glitter and colour of a British army, under ordinary
circumstances, were as fine a body of men as a British general could
wish to command; and all, alike, eager to meet the foe. The British
division had with them two batteries and ten Maxims, and the Egyptian
division five batteries and ten Maxims.
As Gregory was strolling through the camp, he passed where the officers
of one of the British regiments were seated on boxes, round a rough
table, over which a sort of awning had been erected.
"Come and join us, Hilliard. We are having our last feast on our last
stores, which we got smuggled up in one of the gunboats," the Major
called out.
"With pleasure, sir."
The officer who was sitting at the head of the table made room beside
him.
"You men of the Egyptian Army fare a good deal better than we do, I
think," the Major went on. "That institution of private camels is an
excellent one. We did not know that they would be allowed. But, after
all, it is not a bad thing that we did not have them, for there is no
doubt it is as well that the soldiers should not see us faring better
than they. There is bother enough with the baggage, as it is. Of
course, it is different in your case. There are only two or three white
officers with each battalion, and it would not strike your black troops
as a hardship that you should have different food from themselves. They
are living as well as, or better than, they ever did in their lives.
Three camels make no material addition to your baggage train, while, as
there are thirty or forty of us, it would make a serious item in ours,
and the General's keen eyes would spot them at once."
"Our camels are no burden to the army," Gregory said. "They only have a
few pounds of grain a day, and get their living principally on what
they can pick up. When they go on now, they will each carry fifty
pounds of private grain. They get five pounds when there are no bushes
or grass, so that the grain will last them for a fortnight."
"I suppose you think that the Dervishes mean fighting?"
"I think there is no doubt about it. All the fugitives that come in say
that the Khalifa will fight, but whether it will be in the defence of
Omdurman, or whether he will come out and attack us at Kerreri, none
can say. The Khalifa keeps his intentions to himself."
"By the bye, Hilliard, I don't think you know my right-hand neighbour;
he only joined us an hour before we started, having been left behind at
Cairo, sick.
"Mr. Hartley, let me introduce you to Mr. Hilliard--I should say
Bimbashi Hilliard. He is on General Hunter's staff."
The young lieutenant placed an eyeglass in his eye, and bowed to
Gregory.
"Have you been in this beastly country long?" he asked.
"If you include Lower Egypt, I have been here eighteen years."
"Dear me!" the other drawled; "the climate seems to have agreed with
you."
"Fairly well," Gregory replied. "I don't mind the heat much, and one
doesn't feel it, while one is at work."
"Hartley has not tried that, yet," one of the others laughed. "Work is
not in his line. This most unfortunate illness of his kept him back at
Cairo, and he brought such a supply of ice with him, when he came up,
that he was able to hand over a hundredweight of it to us when he
arrived. I don't think, Major, that in introducing him you should have
omitted to mention that, but for a temporary misfortune, he would be
the Marquis of Langdale; but in another two years he will blossom out
into his full title, and then I suppose we shall lose him."
Gregory, whose knowledge of the English peerage was extremely limited,
looked puzzled.
"May I ask how that is?" he said. "I always thought that the next heir
to a title succeeded to it, as soon as his father died."
"As a rule that is the case," the Major said, "but the present is an
exceptional one. At the death of the late marquis, the heir to the
title was missing. I may say that the late marquis only enjoyed the
title for two years. The next of kin, a brother of his, had
disappeared, and up to the present no news has been obtained of him. Of
course he has been advertised for, and so on, but without success. It
is known that he married, but as he did so against the wish of his
father, he broke off all communication with his family; and it is
generally supposed that he emigrated. Pending any news of him, the
title is held in abeyance.
"He may have died. It is probable that he has done so, for he could
hardly have escaped seeing the advertisements that were inserted in
every paper. Of course, if he has left children, they inherit the
title.
"After a lapse of five years Mr. Hartley's father, who was the next
heir, and who died five years ago, applied to be declared the inheritor
of the title; but the peers, or judges, or someone decided that
twenty-one years must elapse before such an application could be even
considered. The income has been accumulating ever since, so that at the
end of that time, it is probable that Mr. Hartley will be allowed to
assume the title.
"Will the estates go with the title, Hartley?"
"Oh, I should say so, of course!" the other drawled. "The title would
not be of much use, without them."
"Nonsense, my dear fellow!" another said. "Why, a fellow with your
personal advantage, and a title, would be able to command the American
market, and to pick up an heiress with millions."
The general laugh that followed showed that Hartley was, by no means, a
popular character in the regiment.
"The fellow is a consummate ass," the man on Gregory's left whispered.
"He only got into the service as a Queen's cadet. He could no more have
got in, by marks, than he could have flown. No one believes that he had
anything the matter with him, at Cairo; but he preferred stopping
behind and coming up by himself, without any duties, to taking any
share in the work. He is always talking about his earldom--that is why
the Major mentioned it, so as to draw him out."
"But I suppose he is really heir to it?"
"Yes, if no one else claims it. For aught that is known, there may be
half a dozen children of the man that is missing, knocking about
somewhere in Canada or Australia. If so, they are safe to turn up,
sooner or later. You see, as the man had an elder brother, he would not
have counted at all upon coming to the title. He may be in some
out-of-the-way place, where even a colonial newspaper would never reach
him; but, sooner or later, he or some of his sons will be coming home,
and will hear of the last earl's death, and then this fellow's nose
will be put out of joint.
"I am sure everyone in the regiment would be glad, for he is an
insufferable ass. I suppose, when he comes into the title, he will
either cut the army altogether, or exchange into the Guards."
The party presently broke up, having finished the last bottle of wine
they had brought up. Gregory remained seated by the Major, discussing
the chances of the campaign, and the points where resistance might be
expected. The other officers stood talking, a short distance off.
Presently Gregory caught the words:
"How is it that this young fellow calls himself Bimbashi, which, I
believe, means major?"
"He does not call himself that, although that is his rank. All the
white officers in the Egyptian Army have that rank, though they may
only be lieutenants, in ours."
"I call it a monstrous thing," the drawling voice then said, "that a
young fellow like this, who seems to be an Egyptian by birth, should
have a higher rank than men here, who have served fifteen or twenty
years."
The Major got up, and walked across to the group.
"I will tell you why, Mr. Hartley," he said, in a loud voice. "It is
because, for the purpose of the war in this country, they know
infinitely more than the officers of our army. They talk the languages,
they know the men. These blacks will follow them anywhere, to the
death. As for Mr. Hilliard, he has performed feats that any officer in
the army, whatever his rank, would be proud to have done. He went in
disguise into the Dervish camp at Metemmeh, before Hunter's advance
began, and obtained invaluable information. He jumped overboard from a
gunboat to save a drowning Dervish woman, although to do so involved
almost certain capture and death at the hands of the Dervishes. In
point of fact, his escape was a remarkable one, for he was tied to a
tree in the first line of the Dervish defences at Atbara, and was only
saved by what was almost a miracle. He may not be heir to an earldom,
Mr. Hartley, but he would do more credit to the title than many I could
name. I hear him well spoken of, by everyone, as an indefatigable
worker, and as having performed the most valuable services. Captain
Keppel, on whose gunboat he served for two or three months, spoke to me
of him in the highest terms; and General Hunter has done the same.
"I fancy, sir, that it will be some years before you are likely to
distinguish yourself so highly. His father was an officer, who fell in
battle; and if he happened to be born in Egypt, as you sneeringly said
just now, all I can say is that, in my opinion, had you been born in
Egypt, you would not occupy the position which he now does."
Gregory had walked away when the Major rose, and he did not return to
the party. It was the first time that he had run across a bad specimen
of the British officer, and his words had stung him. But, as he said to
himself, he need not mind them, as the fellow's own comrades regarded
him, as one of them said, as "an insufferable ass." Still, he could not
help wishing, to himself, that the missing heir might turn up in time
to disappoint him.
General Hunter started next day, at noon, with two of his brigades and
the mounted troops; the other two brigades following, at nightfall. The
previous night had been one of the most unpleasant Gregory had ever
spent. The long-expected rain had come at last. It began suddenly;
there was a flash of lightning, and then came a violent burst of wind,
which tore down the tents and the flimsy shelters of the Egyptians and
Soudanese. Before this had ceased, the rain poured down in a torrent;
lightning, wind, and rain kept on till morning, and when the start was
made, everyone was soaked to the skin. The Egyptian baggage left at the
same time, in native craft.
That evening they arrived at the mouth of the Shabluka Cataract. Here
it had been expected that the advance would be opposed, as strong forts
had been erected by the enemy, the river narrowed greatly, and
precipitous rocks rose on either side. Through these the course was
winding, and the current ran with great strength, the eddies and sharp
bends making it extremely difficult for the gunboats to keep their
course. Indeed, it would have been impossible for them to get up, had
the forts been manned; as they would have had to pass within two
hundred yards of the guns. But although the forts could hardly have
been attacked by the gunboats, they were commanded by a lofty hill
behind them; and the scouts had discovered, some weeks before, that the
Dervishes had retired from the position, and that the passage would be
unopposed.
Maxwell's and Colville's brigades started at four that afternoon, and
the next day the whole division was established at El Hejir, above the
cataracts.
Lyttleton's brigade started, at five o'clock A.M. on the 25th, the
gunboats and other steamers moving parallel with them along the river.
At five in the afternoon the first brigade followed and, two days
afterwards, the camp was entirely evacuated, and the whole of the
stores well on their way towards El Hejir. On the previous day, two
regiments of Wortley's column of friendly natives also marched south.
The Sirdar and headquarters, after having seen everything off, went up
in a gunboat, starting at nine in the morning.
As usual, the Soudanese troops had been accompanied by a considerable
number of their wives, who were heavily laden with their little
household goods, and in many cases babies. They trudged patiently along
in the rear of the columns, and formed an encampment of their own, half
a mile away from the men's, generally selecting a piece of ground
surrounded by thick bush, into which they could escape, should Dervish
raiders come down upon them.
The stores arrived in due course. One of the gunboats, however, was
missing--the Zafir, with three gyasses in tow, having suddenly sunk,
ten miles north of Shendy, owing to being so deeply loaded that the
water got into the hold. Those on board had just time to scramble into
the boats, or swim to shore. No lives were lost, though there were many
narrow escapes. Among these were Commander Keppel and Prince Christian
Victor, who were on board. Fortunately, another steamer soon came along
and took the gyasses, with the ship-wrecked officers and crew on board,
and towed them up to El Hejir.
It had been intended to stay here some little time, but the Nile
continued to rise to an altogether exceptional height, and part of the
camp was flooded. At five o'clock, therefore, the Egyptian brigades
started, with the guns on their right and the steamers covering their
left, while the cavalry and camel corps were spread widely out, in
advance to give notice of any approaching Dervish force. As usual the
soldiers' wives turned out, and as the battalions marched past, shouted
encouragement to their husbands; calling upon them to behave like men,
and not to turn back in battle. The presence of the women had an
excellent effect on the soldiers, and in addition to their assistance
in carrying their effects, they cooked their rations, and looked after
them generally. The Sirdar, therefore, did not discourage their
presence in the field, and even supplied them with rations, when it was
impossible for them to obtain them elsewhere.
In the afternoon the two white brigades also moved forward. At nine
o'clock they arrived at their camping ground, and the whole army was
again collected together. Next morning the four squadrons of Egyptian
horse, with a portion of the cavalry, went forward to reconnoitre, and
one of the gunboats proceeded a few miles up the river. Neither saw
anything of the enemy.
There had been heavy rain during the night. This had ceased at
daybreak, and a strong wind speedily dried the sands, raising such
clouds of dust that it was difficult to see above a few yards. The
storm had also the effect of hindering the flotilla.
On the other side of the river, Stuart-Wortley's friendlies had a sharp
brush with some Dervishes, whom they had come upon raiding a village,
whose inhabitants had not obeyed the Khalifa's orders to move into
Omdurman.
As the rainstorms continued, it was decided, by a council of war, that
the health of the troops would suffer by a longer stay. On the 29th,
therefore, the army set out in order of battle, ready to encounter the
Khalifa's attack, but arrived without molestation at Um Teref, a short
distance from Kerreri, where it was expected the enemy would give
battle.
The camp was smaller than those hitherto made, and was protected by a
strong zareba. The sentries were doubled, and patrols thrown out. Heavy
rain set in after sunset, and almost a deluge poured down. The tents
had been left behind, and as the little blanket shelters were soon
soaked through, their occupants were speedily wet to the skin.
It was still raining when, at half-past five, the force again started.
As before, the army was marching in fighting order. The day was cool
and cloudy, and at one o'clock they halted at a village called Merreh,
or Seg. The cavalry had come into touch with the Dervish patrols, but
the latter, although numerous, avoided combat.
In one of the deserted villages was found one of Wingate's spies, in
Dervish attire. He had left Omdurman thirty hours before, and brought
the news that the Khalifa intended to attack at Kerreri. This place had
been chosen because there was current an old prophecy, by a Persian
sheik, to the effect that English soldiers would one day fight at
Kerreri, and be destroyed there. It had, therefore, become an almost
holy place to the Mahdists, and was called the death place of all the
infidels; and, once a year, the Khalifa and his followers made a
pilgrimage to it.
A few shots were fired during the night, and fires blazed on the hills
to notify, to Omdurman, our precise position. The troops started again
soon after daylight, facing now to the right and marching westward, to
leave the bush and broken ground, and get out in the open desert,
stretching away to Omdurman. The cavalry were widely spread out, and
the Lancers ascended to the top of the hill of El Teb, from which a
view of the Dervish camp was obtained.
It lay some ten miles due south. The Dervishes were disposed in three
long lines, stretching from within two thousand yards of the Nile out
into the desert, being careful to get, as they believed, beyond the
range of the four gunboats that steamed quietly up.
After a short march the force halted near the river, two miles north of
Kerreri. The place was convenient for camping, but the banks of the
river were steep, and there was much difficulty in watering the horses
and transport animals.
"We are in for another bad night," one of the General's staff said to
Gregory, as the evening approached.
"It looks like it. Clouds are banking up fast. If the rain would but
come in the daytime, instead of at night, one would not object to it
much. It would lay the dust and cool the air. Besides, on the march we
have other things to think of; and though, of course, we should be
drenched to the skin, we should not mind it. But it is very unpleasant
lying in a pool of water, with streams running in at one's neck."
"As to one's blanket, it is like a sponge, five minutes after the rain
begins," the officer said.
"I am better off in that respect," Gregory remarked; "for, when I left
my little tent behind, I kept a waterproof sheet instead of my second
blanket. I had intended to use it tent fashion, but it was blown down
in a minute, after the first storm burst. Now I stand up, wrap my
blanket tightly round me, while my boy does the same with the
waterproof sheet; and I keep moderately dry, except that the water will
trickle in at the end, near my neck. But, on the other hand, the
wrapping keeps me so hot that I might almost as well lie uncovered in
the rain."
The staff had intended taking a few tents with them, but these were
practically of no use at all, as all canvas had to be lowered by the
time that "lights out" sounded, and after that hour no loud talking was
permitted in the camp. This might have been a privation, had the
weather been fine, but even the most joyous spirit had little desire
for conversation, when the rain was falling in bucketfuls over him.
The officers of the white division lay down by their men, in the
position they would occupy if an attack by the enemy took place. The
officers of the Egyptian regiments lay together, just in rear of their
men. As soon as the "last post" sounded, absolute silence reigned. The
sentries, placed a very short distance out, kept their senses of sight
and hearing on the alert; and with eye and ear strove to detect the
approach of a lurking foe. Jaalin scouts were stationed outside the
zareba, so as to give an early warning of the approach of the enemy;
but no reliance could be placed upon them; for, altogether without
discipline, they would probably creep under bushes, and endeavour to
find some shelter from the pitiless downpour.
Had the Khalifa known his business, he would have taken advantage of
the tempestuous night, and launched his warriors at the camp. Confident
as the officers of the expedition were, in the ability of their men to
repulse any assault that might be made in the daylight, it was felt
that such an attack would cause terrible loss, and possibly grave
disaster, if delivered at night. The enemy might not be discovered
until within a few yards of the camp. The swish of the rain, and the
almost incessant crash of thunder, would deaden the sound of their
approach; and, long before the troops could leap to their feet and
prepare to receive them calmly, the Dervishes would be upon them. As
the latter were enormously stronger in numbers, the advantage of
superior weapons would be lost in a hand-to-hand fight, and in the
inevitable confusion, as the troops in reserve would be unable to open
fire, while ignorant of the precise position of friends and foes.
The Khalifa, however, was relying upon prophecy. It was at Kerreri that
the infidel army was to be utterly destroyed, and he may have thought
that it would be tempting fate, were he to precipitate an action before
the invaders reached the spot where their doom had been pronounced.
Even more miserable than night was the hour before dawn. Lying still,
drenched to the skin as they were, Nature prevailed, and the men
obtained some sleep; but when they rose to their feet, and threw off
the sodden blankets, they felt the full misery of eight hours'
drenching. They were cold now, as well as wet, and as they endeavoured
to squeeze the water from their clothes, and to restore circulation by
swinging their arms, but few words were spoken; and the rising of the
sun, which was regarded as a terrible infliction during the day, was
eagerly looked for. No sooner did it appear above the horizon than the
spirits of the men rose rapidly, and they laughed, joked, and made
light of the inconveniences of the situation.
An hour later, their clothes were nearly dry. By that time they were
all well on their way, the brigades, as before, marching in
echelon--Wauchope's brigade on the left, Lyttleton's farther to the
right but more to the rear, the three Egyptian brigades farther out on
the plain, the 21st Lancers scouting the ground in front of the British
division, and the native cavalry and camel corps out beyond the right
of the Egyptians.
All expected that, at least, they should have a skirmish before they
reached Kerreri, where they were to encamp; but, as they advanced, it
was found that the Dervishes had fallen back from that line, and had
joined the Khalifa's main force near Omdurman.
By ten in the morning the army had arrived at its camping place, which
was in the southern part of the ground occupied by the straggling
village. As usual, both extremities of the line rested on the Nile,
forming a semicircle, in which the baggage animals and stores were
placed, in charge of Collinson's brigade. The gunboats took up their
position, to cover the ground over which an enemy must approach to the
attack.
While the infantry were settling down, the cavalry and camel corps went
out scouting. Signallers soon mounted a rugged hill, named Surgham, and
from here a fine view was obtained of Omdurman, and the Khalifa's army.
Omdurman was six miles away, covering a wide tract of ground, with but
few buildings rising above the general level, the one conspicuous
object being the great tomb of the Mahdi, with its white dome.
In the outskirts of the town were the white tents of the Dervish army.
For the present these were unoccupied, the whole force being drawn up,
in regular line, out on the plain; about halfway between the town and
Surgham Hill. It was formed in five divisions, each of which was bright
with banners of all colours, sizes, and shapes. The Khalifa's own
division was in the centre, where his great black banner, waving from a
lofty flagstaff, could be plainly made out.
The Lancers, Egyptian cavalry, and camel corps continued to advance,
capturing several parties of footmen, principally Jaalins, who probably
lagged purposely behind the retiring Dervishes, in order to be taken.
At times the cavalry attempted to charge the Dervish horsemen, when
these approached, but in no case did the latter await the attack.
Presently, above the occasional musketry fire, came the boom of a heavy
gun. There was a thrill of excitement in the camp. The gunboats had
arrived opposite Omdurman, and had opened fire upon the Dervish
riverside forts. These were strongly constructed; but, as in the forts
at Metemmeh and Shabluka, the embrasures were so faultily constructed
that the guns could only be brought to bear upon the portion of the
river directly facing them, and the four gunboats passed them without
receiving any material damage, and were so able to maintain the
bombardment without receiving any fire in return. At the same time,
they landed the forty-pounder guns on an island but a short distance
from the town, and thence opened fire with lyddite shells upon it. The
howitzers were trained upon the Mahdi's tomb, and soon great holes were
knocked in the dome.
It could be seen, from the top of the hill, that this caused great
excitement in the Dervish lines, and a number of their horsemen rode
out against the Lancers, and drove in their advance scouts; but, on the
main body of the regiment moving forward, they fell back to their line;
and almost immediately a heavy body of infantry moved out, their
intention evidently being to surround and cut off the regiment, while
at the same time a general advance took place. The Colonel of the
Lancers dismounted a portion of his men, and these checked the advance
of the enemy, until the rest fell back.
The news of the advance was signalled to General Kitchener, and the
whole force at once took their position, in fighting order. Believing
that a general attack on the camp would now be made, the cavalry fell
back on either flank, so as to clear the way for the fire of the
artillery and infantry.
The Dervishes had a good view of our camp from the top of Surgham, but
the Khalifa apparently considered that it was too late in the day for a
general attack, and drew off his men to their former position, and the
rest of the afternoon and evening passed quietly. As the men ate their
meal, of tinned meat and biscuit, they were in higher spirits than they
had been since the advance began. Hitherto, they had been in constant
apprehension lest the Dervishes should shun a battle, and would retire
across the desert to El Obeid, or elsewhere; and that they would have
to perform interminable desert marches, only to find, on arriving at
the goal, that the enemy had again moved off. The events of the day,
however, seemed to show that this fear was groundless, and that the
Khalifa had determined to fight a decisive battle for the defence of
his capital.
The British soldier is ready to support any fatigue, and any hardship,
with a prospect of a fight at the end; and, during the advance, he is
always haunted by the fear that the enemy will retire, or give in on
his approach. This fear was stronger than usual on this expedition, for
there was no question as to the greatly superior mobility of the
Dervishes; and it was evident that, if they chose to avoid fighting,
they had it in their power to do so.