Fire and Sword in the Sudan Part 32

Complete silence prevails, broken only by the clanking of the chains, the hoa.r.s.e orders of the hard-hearted warders, or the cries of some poor wretch who is being mercilessly flogged. Some of the prisoners who may have specially incurred the Khalifa's displeasure, are loaded with heavier chains and manacles than the rest, and are interned in the small huts and debarred from all intercourse with their fellow-prisoners. They generally receive only sufficient nourishment to keep them alive.

Ordinary prisoners receive no regular supply of food; but their relatives are allowed to provide for them. It often happens that long before a meal reaches the person for whom it is intended, a very large portion of it has been consumed by the rapacious and unscrupulous warders; and sometimes the prisoner gets nothing whatever. At night, the wretched creatures are driven like sheep into the stone huts, which are not provided with windows, and are consequently quite unventilated.

Regardless of prayers and entreaties, they are pushed pell-mell into these living graves, which are generally so tightly packed that it is quite impossible to lie down. The weaker are trampled down by the stronger; and not infrequently the warder opens the door in the morning to find that some of his victims have succ.u.mbed to suffocation and ill-usage in these horrible cells. It is a painful sight to see scores of half-suffocated individuals pouring out of these dens, bathed in perspiration, and utterly exhausted by the turmoil of the long and sleepless night. Once emerged, they sink down, more dead than alive, under the shade of the walls, and spend the remainder of the day in trying to recover from the effects of the previous night, and gain sufficient strength to undergo the horrors of that which is to follow.

One would think that death was preferable to such an existence. Still these unfortunates cling to life, and pray to G.o.d to relieve them from their sufferings. In spite of the prison being invariably overcrowded, and notwithstanding the horrors of prison life, I do not ever remember having heard of a case of suicide amongst the unfortunate inmates.

Charles Neufeld has spent some years in the Saier, often ill, subject to the greatest privations, and merely kept alive by the occasional supplies which reached him through the Black servant he brought with him from Egypt, and who, in turn, was a.s.sisted by the other Europeans in Omdurman. He managed to survive, though heavily chained by the neck, and wearing two large irons round his feet. On one occasion, he refused to spend the night in one of the stone huts, which he aptly described as "the last station on the way to h.e.l.l," and for this act of disobedience he was severely flogged; but he bore it without a murmur, until his tormentors--amazed at his powers of endurance--cried out, "Why do you not complain? Why do you not ask for mercy?" "That is for others to do, not for me," was the strong-hearted reply which gained for him the respect of even his gaolers. After enduring three years of imprisonment, his irons were lightened; and, with only a chain joining his ankles, he was removed to Khartum, where he was ordered to refine saltpetre for the manufacture of gunpowder, under the superintendence of Wad Hamednalla.

Here his condition was much improved; and he received a small monthly remuneration for his work, which sufficed to provide him with the bare necessaries of life. As the saltpetre refinery adjoins the old church of the Mission, the latter has thus been saved from destruction. After his daily hard work is over, Neufeld is allowed to rest in the Mission gardens; and here, no doubt, his thoughts often revert to his family at home, and he must in his heart curse the evil day which induced him to quit Egypt, and thoughtlessly venture into the clutches of the Khalifa.

For him fate has indeed been cruel; and most fervently do I hope that ere long he may be reunited with his relatives, who have not abandoned all hope of seeing him again. In Europe, there is no lack of friends who are ready to do all in their power to help him; but it rests with G.o.d alone to release this poor captive from his misery.

It makes my heart ache to think of all the horrors that have been enacted in that dreadful prison. There was the sad case of poor Sheikh Khalil, who had been despatched from Cairo with letters to the Khalifa, informing him of the number and names of the prisoners who had been captured at the battle of Toski, all of whom, he was a.s.sured, were being well cared for, and would eventually be set free; and he was requested to hand over to the Sheikh the sword and medals of General Gordon, which, it was a.s.sumed, were in his possession. Khalil's companion, Beshara, was sent back with the letters unanswered, whilst the unfortunate emissary, who was an Egyptian by birth, was thrown into chains, under the pretext that he had been sent as a spy. Ill-treated and deprived of nourishment, he became so weak that he could not rise from the ground. His tormentors even refused him water to drink; and at last death came to him as a happy release from his sufferings.

Malech, a Jewish merchant of Tunis, who had come to Ka.s.sala with Abu Girga's permission, was seized by the Khalifa's orders, and brought to Omdurman, where he remains in captivity in the Saier to this day. He is as thin as a skeleton, and is driven almost to despair. He is kept alive by the efforts of his own community, who have been forced to become Moslems, and who succeed in providing him with small quant.i.ties of food.

Two Ababda Arabs, arrested on suspicion of carrying letters to Europeans in Omdurman, were seized and imprisoned, and died soon after of starvation. The alarm in the European colony was great; but fortunately it transpired that the letters were for a Copt from his relations in Cairo.

The great Sheikh of the Gimeh tribe, Asakr Abu Kalam, who had shown such friends.h.i.+p and hospitality to the Khalifa and his father in early days, was ruthlessly seized and thrown into chains, because it came to the Khalifa's ears that he had spoken disparagingly of the present condition of the Sudan, and had expressed regret at having taken up arms against the Government. He was eventually exiled to Reggaf, whilst his wife, who was a well-known beauty in the Sudan, was torn from the arms of her husband at the hour of his departure, and carried off to the Khalifa's harem.

The well-known Emir, Zeki Tummal, on being seized, was thrown into a small stone building the shape of a coffin, the door of which was built up. He was given no food whatever; but a small amount of water was handed to him through an aperture in the wall. For twenty-three days, he suffered all the horrors of starvation; but no sound or complaint was heard to issue from that living grave. Too proud to beg, and well aware of the futility of doing so, he lingered on till the twenty-fourth day, when death carried him out of reach of his tormentors. The saier and his warders watched, through the aperture, the death agonies of the wretched man; and when at length he had ceased to struggle, they hurried off to give their lord and master the joyful news. That night Zeki's body was removed to the western quarter of the city, and there buried amongst a heap of old ruins, with his back turned towards Mecca.[18] The Khalifa, not content with having tormented him in life, thought thus to deprive him of peace in the world to come.

I have already described how the Khalifa disposed of his most trusted adherent, the Kadi Ahmed. On reaching the Saier, he was thrown into the hut in which Zeki had been interned; and, a few days after, he was visited, at the command of the Khalifa, by two other Kadis, who asked where he had hidden his money. "Tell your master, the Khalifa," said he, "that I have settled my account with this world; and I know of no place where gold or silver can be found." To their further inquiries he remained perfectly silent; and the two myrmidons returned, crestfallen, to their master. This happened only a few days before I quitted Omdurman. Since my return to Egypt, I have ascertained that he died shortly afterwards, under similar circ.u.mstances to those of Zeki.

One could fill a volume with descriptions of the horrors and cruelties enacted in the terrible Saier; but it is useless to weary the reader with further accounts of the atrocities committed by order of that merciless tyrant, the Khalifa.

CHAPTER XVIII.

PLANS FOR ESCAPE.

European Captives in Omdurman--Artin, the Watchmaker--Friends in Cairo--Efforts of my Family to help me--Difficulties of Communication--Babakr Abu Sebiba's Failure--Efforts of Baron Heidler and the Egyptian Intelligence Department--Constant Failures--Osheikh Karrar--Abderrahman matures his Plans--Hopes and Fears--My Plan to gain Time--I quit my Hut never to return.

In keeping me constantly close to his person, the Khalifa had a twofold object. He knew that I was the only remaining high Egyptian official who had a thorough knowledge of the Sudan, had traversed almost the entire country, and was complete master of the language. Utterly ignorant of the political situation, he imagined that if I succeeded in escaping, I should induce the Egyptian Government, or some European power, to enter the Sudan; and he well knew that in that case I should form a link between it and the princ.i.p.al tribal chiefs who were disaffected to him, and longed for the return of a settled form of Government. On the other hand, it flattered his vanity to have practically as his slave the man who had formerly governed the whole of the great province of Darfur, including his own country and tribe. He never attempted to conceal his feelings in this respect, and frequently said to the western Arabs, "See, this is the man who was formerly our master, and under whose arbitrary rule we suffered. Now he is my servant, and must obey my commands at all times. See, this is the man who formerly indulged in the pleasures and vices of the world, and now he has to wear an unwashed jibba and walk barefooted. G.o.d indeed is merciful and gracious!" He paid much less attention to the other European captives, who gained a small livelihood by working at various trades in a quarter near the market-place, where they had built their own huts, and were left almost undisturbed by the other inhabitants of the city. Father Ohrwalder lived by weaving. Father Rosignoli and Beppo Rognotto (a former Mission brother) kept a cookshop in the market-place, and the Sisters lived with them until--with the exception of Sister Theresa Grigolini--they succeeded in escaping. Then there is Giuseppe Cuzzi, one of A. Marquet's former clerks, and a number of Greeks, Syrian Christians, and Copts,--in all some forty-five men who have married either Christians born in the country or Egyptians. The entire colony is termed the Muslimania[19]

quarter, and they have elected from amongst themselves an Emir, under whose orders they agree to live, and who is responsible to the Khalifa for every member of the colony. The present Emir is a certain Greek called Nicola, whose Arabic name is Abdullahi. No one is on any account allowed to quit Omdurman; and they are obliged to guarantee each other.

Consequently when Father Rosignoli escaped, his companion Beppo was thrown into prison, and was in chains when I left the town. After Father Ohrwalder's flight a much stricter surveillance was exercised over all these unfortunates. A place has been allotted to them in the northeastern portion of the mosque, where they have to attend prayers daily; but not being under special control, they take it in turns to be present, so that, in case of inquiry, the colony shall always be represented. Their huts are built adjoining each other, and in this way they can communicate without difficulty, and thus derive some alleviation of their sad lot by mutual sympathy; but their children are obliged to live in the various tekias (religious rest-houses), where they are taught the Kuran.

I have already described my own surroundings and mode of life; and it now remains for me to add that I was only permitted to converse with a few of the body-guard who were, like myself, either under surveillance or specially employed as spies by the Khalifa to watch and report our every action and word. I was seldom permitted to enter the town; and I was strictly forbidden to make any visits.

The Khalifa is very fond of watches and clocks; and one of my many duties was to wind them up, and generally look after them. I availed myself of this privilege to occasionally visit an Armenian watchmaker named Artin, on the pretext that a clock or watch required repair. His house was situated near the market-place; and here I used to arrange meetings with some of the people I particularly wished to see. I never confided in Artin, and those who came to the shop invariably made some small purchases; and in doing so we succeeded in exchanging, as it were quite casually, a few words. Most of my time was spent at the Khalifa's gate reading the Kuran. I was not permitted to write, as Abdullahi thought it unnecessary for me to practise an art of which he himself was ignorant. I invariably accompanied my master to the mosque, or when he appeared in public, and on these occasions my duties were somewhat those of an aide-de-camp. Being in receipt of no salary, my food was of the simplest, and consisted generally of asida, various sorts of sauces, and occasionally a little meat purchased in the market.

Abdullahi knew perfectly that I longed for freedom; and, in spite of all my efforts to conceal it, I could not overcome his very rational suspicion of me. By constant gifts of slaves, by offers of marriage with his family, and various other expedients, he did all he could to make ties which he thought would hold me down; but my continued refusal of these very questionable benefits only confirmed his suspicions that I intended to escape on the first possible occasion. After the fall of Khartum, my family had done all in their power to obtain news of me; but fortunately they realised how careful they must be. Herr Von Gsiller, the Austro-Hungarian Consul-General in Egypt, spared no pains to get news of me, and his efforts were heartily seconded by the officers attached to the Egyptian army, and other officials. It was at his suggestion that my relatives had communicated with me through the Governor of Suakin, in 1888; and I have described in the preceding pages how I was eventually forbidden by the Khalifa to hold any further intercourse with the outside world. Already my relations with the Khalifa had become much strained, owing to these events; and they became much more so when a letter reached the Khalifa from Herr Von Rosty (who had succeeded Herr Von Gsiller), asking his permission to send a priest to minister to the members of the Mission, who, he stated, were Austrian subjects. At the same time, he had written to me asking for information on the present situation in the Sudan. The Khalifa, of course, took no notice of Herr Von Rosty's letter, and accused me of duplicity and disloyalty, because I had previously informed him that the members of the Mission, with the exception of Father Ohrwalder, were Italians. I had deliberately done this, as I feared that Abdullahi, in one of his sudden outbursts of pa.s.sion against me, might vent his rage on those whom he believed to be my compatriots, and whom I was anxious to save; but now this letter, stating directly the contrary, was a heavy blow. It was quite beyond the Khalifa's capacity to understand that members of various nationalities could be, for the purpose of the Mission, under Austrian protection; and for a long time he incessantly upbraided me for having deceived him.

My family had placed a considerable sum of money at the disposal of the Austrian Consul-General, with the object of a.s.sisting me; and they, through the kind intervention of the various Sirdars of the Egyptian army, and of Major Wingate, the Director of Military Intelligence, succeeded in sending me occasional sums by the hands of trustworthy Arabs. Of course I invariably received considerably smaller sums than those which had been originally confided to them, though I was obliged to give receipts for the full amounts. However, I was truly thankful for what I received; and by the system which was established I was enabled to send my relatives sc.r.a.ps of information about myself and my affairs. I was obliged to exercise the most extreme caution in spending the money thus received, lest suspicion should be aroused; and therefore I continued to live as simply as possible, and expended all I could spare in cementing my various friends.h.i.+ps.

My friends in Cairo had fully realised that, after I had been prevented from holding any communication with the outside, it was quite impossible for them to secure my release from the Khalifa's hands by ordinary methods. They therefore spared no efforts to afford me the means of affecting my escape should an opportunity occur. From the earliest days of my captivity, I had realised that my only hope of freedom lay in flight; and although the rise and development of this great movement interested me considerably,--especially as I had exceptional means of watching it,--I never for an instant abandoned the idea of succeeding in my object, though I little dreamt that twelve long years of hards.h.i.+p, misery, and humiliation must elapse before it could be accomplished.

For years, I did not confide my secret to a soul; but eventually I told Ibrahim Adlan of my intentions; and he promised to a.s.sist me to the best of his ability. Unfortunately, the Khalifa executed him soon afterwards; and in him I lost a true and kind friend and protector. On his death, I confided my secret to two influential individuals on whose silence I could rely; and though I knew that partly owing to their liking for me, and partly owing to their hatred of the Khalifa, they would have willingly a.s.sisted me in the accomplishment of my object, our negotiations came to nothing. The money required would, I knew, be forthcoming; but they dreaded that after my escape their names might be eventually divulged; and as they were tied by their families to live in the Sudan, they knew that, in the event of discovery, the Khalifa would wreak his vengeance on their defenceless wives and children.

Meanwhile, my family had not been idle; and no sacrifice was too great for their love. Living in Vienna, ignorant of the real state of affairs in the Sudan, and not aware of how they could best help me, they trustfully continued to place considerable sums of money at the disposal of the Austrian Agency in Cairo, the representative of which received instructions from the Minister of Foreign Affairs to utilise it to the best of his ability. His Excellency Baron Heidler von Egeregg--now Amba.s.sador and Minister Plenipotentiary, and who has been for some years Consul-General in Cairo--took a personal interest in my affairs, and did everything in his power to facilitate my escape. But it is only possible to secure the services of reliable persons through the intermediary of Government officials; and with this object in view, he enlisted the sympathies, first of Colonel Schaeffer Bey, and subsequently of Major Wingate, who had on several previous occasions endeavoured to a.s.sist me; and it is to his and to Baron Heidler's incessant efforts that I owe my freedom. Without their intervention, it would not have been possible to procure reliable Arabs to bring me occasional sums of money; and I owe to them my heartiest thanks for their frequent attempts to effect my rescue; and although, with the exception of the last, they all failed, the arrangements were such that the Khalifa and his myrmidons never had the slightest suspicion of them.

Early in February, 1892, the former chief of the Dongola camel postmen, Babakr Abu Sebiba, arrived in Omdurman from Egypt. He was an Ababda Arab; and when brought before the Khalifa, he a.s.serted that he had escaped from a.s.suan, that he sought the Khalifa's pardon, and begged to be allowed to settle down in Berber. As he had letters of introduction to the Emir of Berber, Zeki Osman, permission was accorded to him; and when going out at the door of the mosque, he nudged me, and whispered, "I have come for you; arrange for an interview." "To-morrow after evening prayers, here in the mosque," was my reply; and he then disappeared. Although I had not given up hope of escape, I never dared to be very sanguine; for I had had much experience of these Arabs and Sudanese, and knew that often their words go for nought, and their promises are more frequently broken than kept. I therefore spent the following day much as usual, though I could not help wondering what would be the upshot of the interview.

After evening prayers, and when all the people had left the mosque, Babakr pa.s.sed the door at which I had seen him the previous day.

Cautiously I followed him; and together we entered the thatched portion of the building, which was in deep shade. Out of sight, and out of hearing, Babakr now handed me a small tin box, which, from the smell, seemed to contain coffee, saying, "This box has a double bottom. Open and read the papers enclosed in it; and I shall be here again to-morrow at the same hour." Concealing the box under my jibba, I returned to my place, and, as chance fell out, was summoned that evening to sup with the Khalifa. Imagine my feelings: for the box was sufficiently large to be seen under my clothes; and here was I seated opposite my master with his lynx eyes fixed on me. Fortunately he was rather tired, and only talked on general subjects; though he did not fail to caution me to be loyal, or he would punish me unmercifully. Of course I a.s.sured him of my fidelity and affection for him; and, after having partaken of a little meat and dhurra, I feigned sudden illness, and obtained permission to withdraw. Hurrying home with all speed, I lit my little oil lamp, tore open the box with my knife, and there found a small piece of paper, on which the following words were written in French:

Babakr Wad Abu Sebiba is a trustworthy man.

(Signed.) SCHAEFFER, COLONEL.

On the other side of the paper were a few lines from the Austrian Agency confirming this. The writers had wisely omitted my name, fearing that it might fall into the hands of enemies; and now I had to exercise more patience until the following evening.

As agreed, I met Babakr as before; and he briefly informed me that he had come to arrange my escape, and that, having seen me, he would return to Berber to complete his preparations. As the Emir Zeki Osman had been ordered to come to Omdurman in July for the manoeuvres, he proposed to accompany him, in order to carry out his object. I a.s.sured him that I was ready at any time to make the attempt; and, after imploring him to do all in his power to help me, we parted. He returned, as arranged, in July with Zeki Osman; and, in a secret meeting, he told me that, in order to disarm suspicion, he had got married in Berber; that he had brought four camels with him, but that he had not yet arranged about our crossing the river. Should I, however, decide to risk flight, he would guide me through the Bayuda desert and by El Kaab (west of Dongola) to Wadi Halfa; but I knew that the camels could not possibly perform such a journey in the height of summer. I soon saw that the man wanted to spend a few more months in the Sudan, probably with his newly acquired bride; and so we agreed to postpone the attempt till the month of December, when the long nights would be more favourable to the enterprise. Months pa.s.sed; and I heard from secret sources that Babakr was still at Berber.

December went by, and the year 1893 had begun. Still no sign of my friend. At length he returned in July, and told me that the messenger whom I had despatched to Cairo asking for 100 had been delayed on the road; and that as he had arrived there at a time of year when the journey would have been impossible, the authorities had refused to supply him with the funds. He added, however, that he had brought two camels, and that if I would risk flight, he would try to procure a third. I saw that the man had been making inquiries, and had ascertained that at most it would only be possible for me to obtain a few hours'

start, which would not be sufficient to insure success; besides he knew that it was out of the question starting in July. When, therefore, I proposed again postponing flight till the beginning of the winter, he readily acquiesced merely for form's sake. His constant visits to Omdurman had aroused the Khalifa's suspicions; and one of the Kadis notified him that he must attend the mosque five times daily, and should not leave Omdurman without the Khalifa's permission. Alarmed probably at the turn affairs had taken, he escaped and returned to Egypt. Three days after he had left, his absence was discovered. On his arrival in Cairo, as I subsequently learnt, he informed those who had sent him that he had frequently come to Omdurman; but that I had persistently refused to risk flight with him. Baron Heidler and Major Wingate, however, realised that the man's statement was untrue; and some time later I had an opportunity of informing them, through a trusty agent, of the man's behaviour.

These gentlemen subsequently made an agreement with a merchant named Musa Wad Abderrahman, promising him 1000 if he succeeded in effecting my escape, while at the same time he was furnished with what was necessary for the undertaking. In the winter I received information of this fresh enterprise; but it was not till June, 1894, that one of Musa's relatives, named Ahmed, told me that some Arabs had been secured who would arrive in a few days, and would attempt to fly with me. He also told me that a station had been prepared in the desert, where a change of camels would be in readiness, and that, in spite of the great heat, there was every prospect of the success of the undertaking.

On 1st July, Ahmed warned me that the camels had arrived, and that I should be ready to start the next night. That evening, I told my servants that one of my friends was dangerously ill, and that I had obtained the Khalifa's permission to visit him, that I would probably stay the night, and that, therefore, they need not be uneasy if I did not return. That night, when my master had retired to rest, accompanied by Ahmed, I quitted the mosque; and, with bare feet and armed only with a sword, we hurried along the road leading towards the parade ground, and then turned off in a northeasterly direction.

The night was dark. During the day the first showers announcing the beginning of the rainy season had fallen; and, as we crossed the cemetery, I put my foot into an old grave, which had been washed out by the rain, and my foot got twisted in the bones of the skeleton on which I had stepped. It seemed as if the dead as well as the living were conspiring to throw difficulties in my path; but, in spite of the pain, I struggled on, and reached Khor Shambat. We crossed to the other side, where it was arranged the camels would await us. We searched up and down the banks. Ahmed even called out in a low tone; but not a sign of them was to be seen. The night was cool; but our efforts had bathed us in perspiration, and, after wandering to and fro for hours, in our vain search, we were at length obliged to give up and retrace our steps. What could have happened to our men? Could they have been noticed by some Dervishes who had perhaps arrested them on suspicion? Full of doubts and fears, we reached our homes in safety. I had parted from Ahmed on the parade ground; and I had begged him to let me know in the evening what had happened. At the same time, I repeated that I was prepared to renew the attempt at any time. The dawn was just breaking as I reached the threshold of my hut, which I had quitted a few hours before, as I thought for the last time, and my feelings can be better imagined than described I had scarcely been back more than a few minutes, when one of my fellow mulazemin, named Abdel Kerim, arrived with a message from the Khalifa to inquire the reason of my absence from morning prayers. I replied that I had been ill; and indeed my wretched appearance almost warranted such an a.s.sertion.

In vain I waited that evening for news from Ahmed; but I did not learn from him till two days afterwards, that the Arabs had reconsidered the matter, and had come to the conclusion that the risk of recapture was too great, and had returned to their homes instead of coming to the place of rendezvous. So we had completely failed, and considered ourselves lucky to have returned unnoticed from our midnight ramble.

Again I informed my Cairo friends of what had happened. They were unsparing in their efforts, and had now the valuable aid of Father Ohrwalder, who, when in Vienna, had visited my family, and had obtained from them some ether pills, which are very strengthening on a journey, and ward off sleep. They had been prepared by Professor Ottokar Chiari, and had reached me safely. They were in a small bottle which I had buried carefully in the ground.

I now made a confidant of Abderrahman Wad Harun, whom I despatched to Cairo with a message to Baron Heidler to place at his disposal the requisite means for my escape. Again an agreement was made between this merchant and the Austrian Agency, with the concurrence of Major Wingate, and the a.s.sistance of Milhem Shakkur Bey and Naum Effendi Shukeir of the Intelligence Department. If successful, Abderrahman was to receive 1000; and he was also given the necessary outfit and 200 in advance.

Meanwhile, Major Wingate, who had been despatched to Suakin as acting Governor, fearing another failure, made a similar agreement with a local Arab named Osheikh Karrar, who, it was arranged, should attempt my rescue _via_ Tokar or Ka.s.sala. One day, a Suakin merchant in Omdurman handed me a small slip of paper, on which was written,--

We are sending you Osheikh Karrar, who will hand you some needles, by which you will recognise him. He is a faithful and brave man. You can trust him. Kind regards from Wingate.

(Signed.) OHRWALDER.

Soon afterwards I heard from one of Abderrahman Wad Harun's relatives that the latter had arrived at Berber from Cairo, and was making preparations for my escape; but in order to avoid being suspected, he had decided not to come to Omdurman, and in this I fully concurred.

The 1st of January, 1895, had dawned. How many weary years of deprivation and humiliation I had spent in closest proximity to my tyrannical master! And would this year come and go like the rest, leaving me still in his clutches? No. I felt sure that the time was at length approaching when my friends would be able to break asunder the bonds which held me down, and that I should once more see my relatives, fatherland, and the friends of my youth.

One evening, about the middle of January, a man I had never seen before pa.s.sed me in the street, and made a sign to me to follow him; and as I brushed up against him, he whispered, "I am the man with the needles."

Joyfully I led him in the dark to a little niche in the outside wall of my hut, and begged him to tell me his plans quickly. He first presented me with three needles and a small slip of paper, and then, to my dismay, told me that at present flight was impossible. "I came," said he, "with the full intention of taking you to Ka.s.sala; but now that military posts have been formed at El Fasher, Asubri, and Goz Regeb on the Atbara, which are in constant communication with each other, flight in this direction is not possible." He added further that one of his camels had died, and that he had lost money, owing to bad trade; and, in consequence, he had not sufficient means to arrange for the escape. He therefore begged that I would give him a letter to Major Wingate, asking for a further sum of money, and promising to return again in two months.

I felt sure that the man did not really mean to risk his life for me; and, as he informed me he wished to leave without delay, I told him to meet me the following evening at the mosque. We then separated; and I returned once more to my post at the Khalifa's door. The note from Suakin contained a few lines of recommendation from Father Ohrwalder, to which I wrote a reply, briefly describing what had taken place; and the next night when we met, I handed to Osheikh the letter, which he hurriedly thrust into his pocket, hoping that it would be the means of obtaining more money.

Bitterly disappointed, I was returning disconsolately to my house, when I suddenly came across Mohammed, the cousin of my friend Abderrahman. As if by mere chance I found him walking at my side; and, in a whisper, he said to me, "We are ready. The camels are bought; the guides are engaged. The time arranged for your escape is during the moon's last quarter next month. Be ready!" and without another word he left me.

This time I felt convinced that I was not to be doomed to disappointment. Towards the end of January, Hussein Wad Mohammed, who had also been engaged by Baron Heidler and Major Wingate, arrived in Omdurman, and secretly told me that he was ready to help me to escape.

He begged me to let my friends in Cairo know what I had decided to do, and said that one of his brothers, who was about to proceed to Egypt, would be the bearer of the letter. As I was bound to Abderrahman, I decided to wait and see if his efforts would succeed, and, should they fail, I decided I would try Hussein; but I merely told the latter that at present I was not well enough to attempt so long a journey, and that at the end of February I would let him know definitely my decision. At the same time, I gave him a letter to my friends telling them that I intended to attempt escape with the a.s.sistance of Abderrahman; and, in case of failure, from which I prayed the Almighty to preserve me, I would seek the help of Hussein. I was now in some alarm that, so many people being in the secret, the Khalifa might suspect something. Had he obtained the slightest clue to what was going on, I should have certainly paid for it with my life.