Fire and Sword in the Sudan Part 16

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 wors.h.i.+p); 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 wors.h.i.+ppers, 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 aleik.u.m," which we at once returned by "Aleik.u.m 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." "G.o.d 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 G.o.d for your conversion.

G.o.d 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 G.o.d 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 G.o.d the most compa.s.sionate and merciful, in the name of the unity of G.o.d, we pay G.o.d, His Prophet, and you our allegiance; (we swear) that we shall not a.s.sociate anything else with G.o.d, 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 formulae after the Mahdi. When they were over, all those present raised their hands to Heaven, and besought G.o.d 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 princ.i.p.al causes which made the Mahdi so popular with the fair s.e.x, 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 surpa.s.s, 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 princ.i.p.al 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 ombea, 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 d.i.n.ka 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 s.p.a.ce, he directed the hors.e.m.e.n 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 pa.s.sage. 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 antic.i.p.ated 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, Ha.s.san 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 G.o.d protect you and strengthen your faith; you will no doubt be of much use to both the Mahdi and myself."

Soon afterwards, the Emir Ha.s.san 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 Kobbe; 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 a.s.sociate 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 role 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 a.s.sured; 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 pa.s.sed his house on your way here? Is he still possessed of that evil spirit which urges him to fight against the will of G.o.d, 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 G.o.d, 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 wors.h.i.+p 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 a.s.sured 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 _materiel_, 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 ma.s.sacre 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 a.s.sistance 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 a.s.sistance 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 a.s.sistance 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 _materiel_ 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 circ.u.mstances, 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 pa.s.sed 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 G.o.d'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. G.o.d will grant victory only to those who believe in Him; and, in a few days, G.o.d'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 antic.i.p.ated 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 Ha.s.san 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 princ.i.p.ally 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 crus.h.i.+ng 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 ent.i.tled "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 n.o.bles), was placed under Khalifa Mohammed Sherif.

Under each princ.i.p.al 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 fik.u.m!"

(May G.o.d bless you!)

During these Friday reviews, called Arda or Tarr, extraordinary occurrences were said to take place. One would a.s.sert 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 pa.s.sing 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 Dar; 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, Sherkela, 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 Sherkela, 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 G.o.d has converted him, and has led him to the right way." "Perhaps," said I, "he is seeking your and the Mahdi's friends.h.i.+p." The Khalifa looked at me incredulously, and said curtly, "We shall see."

At length, we reached Sherkela; 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 aleik.u.m;" 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."