"He has been able to get here without an interpreter," answered the Khalifa; "however, you have my permission to visit him." He then talked about other things, and showed me the horses Zogal had sent him from Darfur, some of which I knew very well. After leaving my master, I went in search of Pain, whom I found sitting under the shade of a very battered old tent, his head resting on his hands, and evidently in deep thought; when he saw me, he at once rose, saying, "I don't know what to think about it all. I have been ordered to stay here; my baggage has been brought, and I am told that a certain Zeki has been ordered to look after me. Why don't they let me stay with you?"
"It is the Mahdi's nature; and the Khalifa is even worse in working his will in contrariety to every human being under the sun. You are going through a course of what they call 'putting one to the test in patience, submission, and faith,'" said I, by way of sympathy; "but you need have no fear. The Khalifa suspects us both, and is anxious to keep us apart, so that we should not criticise his actions. Here comes Zeki Tummal. He was with me in many a fight; I will strongly commend you to him." I had now advanced to meet Zeki, who shook hands with me, and asked how I was. "My friend," said I to him, "this is a stranger and your guest. I recommend him to your kind care; be forbearing with him for old acquaintance sake."
"I shall let him want for nothing as far as it is in my power to do so," he replied; and then, more slowly, he said, "but the Khalifa has told me not to let him have any intercourse with others, and I therefore beg you will come here only very occasionally."
"These orders do not apply to me," said I; "just this moment I left our master's hut, and he has given me special permission to visit your guest. So again I beg you to treat this poor man with all consideration."
I then returned to Pain and tried to cheer him up, telling him that the Khalifa had given orders he was not to be allowed to see other people; but this, I said, was no disadvantage, for they would probably have used the occasion to intrigue against him, and so put him in danger. As regards myself, however, I said I would come to see him as often as possible.
The next morning, the Khalifa's great war-drum, called "El Mansura" (the victorious), was beaten; this was the signal for the march to begin again, and off we started. We generally marched from early morning till noon only, and thus our progress was not rapid. When we halted at midday, I went to look for Pain, and found him sitting under his tent as before; he appeared in good health, but complained about the bad food. Zeki, who was present whilst we were speaking, said that he had twice sent him some asida, but he would not touch it. I explained that he was not, of course, accustomed to native food yet, and that therefore I proposed getting my servant to prepare some food specially for him; and, returning at once, I ordered him to make some soup and boil some rice, and take it to Olivier Pain. That evening the Khalifa asked me if I had seen him. I told him I had; but that, as he was not accustomed yet to native food, I had ordered my servant to prepare something else. I explained that if he were forced to eat the native food he might get ill; and that therefore, with his permission, I proposed sending him, every now and then, something special. The Khalifa assented. "But," said he, "you eat of our food; it would therefore be better he should get used to it as soon as possible. By-the-bye where is Mustafa? I have not seen him since we left Rahad?"
"He is staying with me, and helps my servants to look after the horses and camels," said I.
"Then send for him," said the Khalifa. I did so; and in a few minutes he entered and stood before us. "Where have you been? I have not seen you for weeks," said the Khalifa, angrily. "Have you forgotten that I am your master?"
"With your permission I went to Abdel Kader, whom I help in his work. You do not care for me now, and have left me alone," replied Klootz, in an annoyed tone.
"Then I will take good care of you in the future," cried the Khalifa, still more angrily; and, calling in a mulazem, he ordered him to take Mustafa to his clerk, Ben Naga, who should put him in chains. Mustafa, without uttering a word, followed his guard.
"Mustafa and you," continued the Khalifa, "have servants enough; and you can quite well do without him. I took him for myself; but he left me without any cause. I then ordered that he should serve my brother Yakub; but he complained and left him too; and now that he is with you, he thinks he can dispense with us altogether."
"Pardon him," said I, "he is merciful who forgives. Let him stay with your brother; perhaps he will improve."
"He must remain a few days in chains," he answered, "so that he may know I am his master; he is not the same as you, who come every day to my door;" this he evidently said to quiet me, as he thought I was getting annoyed. He then ordered supper to be brought in; and I ate more than usual, so that he should not imagine I was doing anything contrary to his orders. He talked very little during the meal, and seemed out of spirits. After supper he made an attempt to say something kind; but I felt that his words belied him. We then separated, and, as I returned to my tent, I thought over the situation. I had resolved to remain on as good terms as I could with the Khalifa, until the hour of my deliverance should come; but his imperious character, want of consideration, and immense self-conceit made my task a most difficult one. I had daily before my eyes the examples of several mulazemin whom he had thrown into chains, flogged, and deprivedof their property (known as "tegrid") on the slightest provocation. He judged very quickly, being actuated entirely by his feelings at the moment, and loved to show that he was master. I will now give an example of the sort of man I had to deal with.
Abu Anga, the commander of the Black troops (Jehadia), and his brother, Fadl Maula, who was his assistant, were both sons of a liberated slave who had borne them to one of the Khalifa's relatives. Fadl Maula had a great friend and adviser in Ahmed Wad Yunes of the Shaigia tribe, and these two presented themselves before the Khalifa one day, when Fadl Maula asked his master's permission for Yunes to marry a certain girl, and give him his blessing. It happened, however, that the Khalifa was in a bad humour, and wished to show his authority; so he immediately ordered the girl's father to be brought before him, and asked him, in the presence of the others, if he wished to give his daughter in marriage to Yunes; and, on the man answering in the affirmative, the Khalifa said, "I have decided, and consider it to the girl's advantage that she should marry Fadl Maula. Have you any objection?" Of course the girl's father had to assent, and, without a moment's hesitation, the Khalifa, turning to his attendants, ordered them to read the marriage "Fatha," or form of prayer and blessing on marriage. This was done, and dates were partaken of. The Khalifa then dismissed all those present, and Fadl Maula departed one wife to the good, whilst Yunes was one hope the poorer; but what the girl said about the new arrangement, I cannot tell.
With a master of this character, one had to be very careful.
After five days' march, we reached Shatt, where most of the wells were filled up, and had to be reopened, and several straw huts erected; for the Mahdi had decided to halt here for some days. During the march, I frequently visited Pain, who daily grew more and more disheartened about the situation. He knew very little Arabic, and was not permitted to talk to any one but the slaves chargedwith looking after him. In a few days, the object of his mission had vanished from his mind, and he thought now only of his wife and children. I urged him to look more hopefully on the future, and not to give way to depressing thoughts which would only make him more miserable. The Khalifa seemed to have almost forgotten his existence, and scarcely ever asked for him.
The day after our arrival at Shatt, the Mahdi's former Sheikh, Mohammed Sherif, who had been expected for so long, at length arrived. He also had been forced by his friends, and by fear, to come to the Mahdi as a penitent; but the latter received him most honourably, and himself led him to the tents he had specially pitched for him, and also presented him with two exceptionally pretty Abyssinian girls, horses, etc. By this generous treatment, the Mahdi attracted to himself almost all Mohammed Sherif's secret adherents.
In the course of time, the Khalifa forgave Mustafa, allowed him to live with his clerk Ben Naga, and permitted him to talk to me.
Just at the time we left Sherkéla, news arrived that Gordon's troops had suffered a severe reverse; and now in Shatt we received the detailed accounts of the overthrow of Mohammed Ali Pasha at Om Debban by the Sheikh El Obeid.
It appeared that when Gordon had defeated the Halfaya rebels at Buri, he despatched Mohammed Ali with two thousand men to disperse the Mahdists collected at Om Debban, the village of the Sheikh El Obeid. Mohammed Ali's career had been very rapid: at his own request he had left me in Darfur with the rank of adjutant-major; Gordon had promoted him to major; and, during the siege, he had risen to the rank of colonel, and soon afterwards to that of general. The force which he commanded against the Sheikh El Obeid was composed mostly of irregulars, and he was accompanied by crowds of women and slaves seeking for plunder. When on the march between El Eilafun and Om Debban, he was attacked suddenlyfrom all sides, and his force was almost entirely annihilated; only a few escaped to bring the sad news to Khartum, where the grief was intense, and to Gordon it must have indeed been a terrible blow.
This success had encouraged the rebels to press the siege more closely; and now, reinforced as they were by Wad en Nejumi and his hosts, Gordon found himself not strong enough to make a successful attack on the Mahdists.
From Shatt we now advanced to Duem, where the Mahdi held an enormous review; and, pointing to the Nile, he said, "God has created this river; He will give you its waters to drink, and you shall become the possessors of all the lands along its banks." This speech was greeted with shouts of joy by these wild fanatics, who at once believed that the wonderful land of Egypt was to be their prey.
From Duem we proceeded to Tura el Hadra, where we spent the Feast of Great Bairam; Olivier Pain was suffering from fever, and was growing more and more depressed. "I have tried many ventures in my life," said he, "without thinking much beforehand of the consequences; but my coming here was a fatal mistake. It would have been very much better for me if the English had succeeded in preventing me from carrying out my design." I did my best to comfort him, but he only shook his head.
At the Feast of Bairam, the Mahdi repeated prayers in an unusually loud voice; and when he read the "Khutba," he wept long and bitterly. We unbelievers well knew that this weeping was hypocrisy, and boded no good; but it had the desired effect on the fanatical crowds who had flocked to his banners from the river tribes, and who were roused by this touching sermon to the highest pitch of enthusiasm.
After a halt of two days, we again moved on, creeping forward like a great tortoise, so swelled were we by the thousands upon thousands who were now joining daily from every part of the Sudan. Poor Olivier had grownconsiderably worse; his fever had turned to typhus. He begged me to induce the Mahdi to let him have some money, as he was so pestered by the begging appeals of his attendants. I went to him, and explained Pain's condition; and the Mahdi at once sent to the Beit el Mal for £5, and wished the sick man a speedy recovery. I had also told the Khalifa of Pain's serious illness, and that the Mahdi had given him £5; but he blamed me for having asked for it without his permission, adding, "If he dies here, he is a happy man. God in His goodness and omnipotence has converted him from an unbeliever to a believer."
Early in the morning, at the end of the first week in October, I was sent for by Pain, and found him so weak that he could not stand up. For two days he had not touched the food I had sent him; and, placing his hand in mine, he said, "My last hour has come; I thank you for your great kindness and care of me. The last favour I have to ask of you is this: when you escape from the hands of these barbarous people, and you happen to go to Paris, tell my unfortunate wife and children my dying thoughts were for them." As he said these words, tears rolled down the poor man's hollow and sunken cheeks. Again I tried to comfort him, saying that it was too soon to give up hope; and as the war-drum was beating for the advance, I had to hurry away and leave him. It was the last time I saw him alive. I left behind with him one of my servants named "Atrun" (Natron), and during the march I told the Khalifa of Pain's condition, urging him to leave the poor man behind at some village where he might have a few days' rest; he told me to remind him of it that evening. The evening came, but no sick man arrived; Atrun came alone. "Where is Yusef?" (this was Pain's Mohammedan name), said I, for the boy seemed much agitated. "My master is dead," he answered; "and that is the reason we are so late." "Dead!" said I. "Yes, dead and buried," replied Atrun.
"Tell me at once what has happened," I asked. "Mymaster Yusef was so weak," said he, "that he could not ride; but we had to go on marching. Every now and then he lost consciousness; then he would come to again and talk words we could not understand. So we tied an angareb on to the saddle, and laid him on it; but he was too weak to hold on, and he fell down suddenly and very heavily. After this he did not come to again, and he was soon dead; so we wrapped him up in his farda [cotton shawl], and buried him, and all his effects were taken to Zeki by his slaves."
Olivier Pain was undoubtedly very seriously ill; but the fall was probably the immediate cause of his sudden death. Poor man! with what a high sounding mission he had come; and now this was the end of it all! I immediately went to the Khalifa, and reported his death to him. "He is a happy man," was his curt remark; he then despatched a mulazem to warn Zeki to have all his effects carefully kept, and he sent me to the Mahdi to apprise him of his end. The latter took it to heart much more than the Khalifa, said several sympathetic words, and repeated the prayers for the dead.
After three days, we reached the neighbourhood of Khartum, and halted at a place about one day's journey from the city. On our way, we had seen Gordon's steamers in the distance; they had come up evidently to watch our movements, and had returned again without firing.
It was evening, and we had just finished pitching camp, when a mulazem of the Mahdi arrived, and directed me to follow him; I went at once, and found him sitting with Abdel Kader Wad Om Mariam, formerly Kadi of Kalakla, and a man who exercised a great influence on the people of the White Nile. Hussein Khalifa was also there; and I formed the fourth of the party.
"I have sent for you," said the Mahdi, "to tell you to write to Gordon to save himself from certain defeat. Tell him that I am the true Mahdi, and that he ought to surrender with his garrison, and thus save himself and his soul. Tell him also, that if he refuses to obey, we shallevery one of us fight against him. Say that you yourself will fight against him with your own hands. Say that victory will be ours, and that you merely tell him this in order to avoid useless bloodshed."
I remained silent till Hussein Khalifa called on me to answer. "O Mahdi!" said I, "listen, I beg of you, to my words. I will be honest and faithful; and I pray you to forgive me, if what I say is not pleasing to you. If I write to Gordon that you are the true Mahdi, he will not believe me; and if I threaten to fight against him with my own hands, he will not be afraid of that. Now as you desire, under any circumstances, to avoid shedding blood, I shall simply summon him to surrender. I shall say that he is not strong enough to attempt to fight against you who are ever-victorious, as he has no hope of help from outside; and, finally, I shall say that I will be the intermediary between you and him."
"I accept your sincere proposal," said the Mahdi; "go now and write the letters, and to-morrow they shall be despatched to Gordon."
I now returned to my quarters. My tent, owing to the difficulties of transport, had been torn to shreds, and I had made a present of the rags to some one; I had in place of it stretched some strips of cloth on sticks, and thus provided a slight shade for myself during the daytime, whilst at night I slept in the open. Searching about for a lantern, I wrote the letters seated on an angareb under the open sky. First I wrote a few lines to Gordon in French, explaining that I was writing to him fully in German because, my French Dictionary having been burnt by the Mahdists, who thought it was a Prayer Book, I did not feel capable of expressing myself as I wished in that language. I said that I hoped I should soon have an opportunity of joining him; and I prayed God that he might be successful. I also mentioned that some of the Shaigias who had recently joined the Mahdi did so to save their wives and children, and not because they entertained any feelings of hostility towards Gordon.
I then wrote a long letter to him in German, saying that I had learnt through George Calamatino that he was annoyed at my capitulation, and that therefore I took the liberty of placing the facts of the case before him, begging him to form his opinion accordingly. I began by recalling my campaigns against Sultan Harun and Dud Benga, and explaining how, on the outbreak of the Mahdi revolt, the few officers left, believing that Arabi Pasha had succeeded in driving the Europeans out of the country, had spread reports that my recent defeats lay in the fact that I was a Christian; how I had stifled the injurious effects of these intrigues by giving out that I was a Mohammedan; and how I had, by this means, been subsequently successful until the annihilation of Hicks' army had cut off all hope of relief. I told him how my constant fights had reduced my available force to some seven hundred men; that my stock of ammunition was well-nigh exhausted; that both officers and men desired capitulation: and what therefore could I do—a European and alone—but submit. I told him how this surrender had been one of the hardest acts of my life; but that as an Austrian officer I felt that I had not acted in a dishonourable manner. I then went on to say that by obedient and submissive behaviour I had in some measure gained the confidence of the Mahdi and the Khalifa, and had obtained their permission to write to him, on the pretext that I was asking him to surrender; but that, instead, I availed myself of this opportunity to offer him my services in order to assure him that I was ready to conquer, or die with him, if God willed, an honourable death. Should he agree to be an accessory to my escape to Khartum, I begged him to write me a few lines in French to that effect; but, in order to carry through the ruse, I suggested that he should also write me a few lines in Arabic, asking me to obtain the Mahdi's permission to come to Omdurman, in order to discuss with him the conditions of surrender. I went on to tell him that Saleh Bey and several of the Sheikhs wished to express their loyalty and devotion to him; but that, under the circumstances,it was impossible for them to come to him, as, by so doing, they would necessarily sacrifice their wives and children.
I now wrote a third letter, in German, to Consul Hansal, asking him to do his utmost to arrange that I should re-enter Khartum, as, being thoroughly cognisant of the Mahdi's plans, intentions, strength, etc., I believed I could be of great service to General Gordon; but, at the same time, as rumours had been in circulation in the Mahdi's camp that, if relief should not soon come, Gordon intended to surrender the town, and as at that time I was quite ignorant of Gordon's prospects of relief, I begged Consul Hansal to inform me of this, as, in the event of the town being surrendered subsequent to my having entered Khartum, I should naturally be the Mahdi's lawful victim on which to vent all his anger at my escape and my efforts to aid his enemies.
It seemed to me that it was quite reasonable on my part to seek some such assurance. At the same time, rumours being current in the camp that the Khartum garrison were much out of heart and wished to surrender, I strongly urged Hansal in my letter not to feel discouraged, pointing out that the Mahdi's forces were not so numerous as he imagined, and that it only required energy and perseverance on the part of the Egyptian troops to be eventually successful, and I urged that they should wait at least six weeks, or two months, longer before submitting, so as to give the relief expedition a chance of saving them.[12]
I also told him there was a rumour in camp that the small steamer which had been sent to Dongola had been wrecked at Wadi Gamr; but that I was not at present in a position to say whether it was true or not.
Early the next morning, the 15th October, I took these letters to the Mahdi and he told me to send them by one of my boys to Omdurman. I at once went and fetched Morgan Fur, a boy of about fifteen years of age, and handed him the letters in the Mahdi's presence; and the latter ordered Wad Suleiman to give him a donkey and some money. Before sending him off, I gave him the most strict injunctions to speak to no one in Khartum except to Gordon Pasha and Consul Hansal, and to assure them that I wished to come to them.
At midday, some horsemen arrived from Berber, confirming the news of the wreck of the steamer, and of the murder of Colonel Stewart, and those with him. The men brought with them all the papers and documents found on board; and I was ordered by the Khalifa to examine those written in European languages in Ahmed Wad Suleiman's office. Amongst them, I found several private letters from people in Khartum, as well as official documents and records. The most important of these was, of course, the military report describing the daily occurrences in Khartum; it was unsigned, but I had no doubt it was General Gordon's. A portion only of the correspondence, etc., was shown to me; and before I had had time to peruse it fully, I was again summoned before the Mahdi, who asked me what the contents were. I replied, that most of them were private letters, and that there was a military report, which I did not understand. Unfortunately amongst the captured correspondence were numbers of Arabic letters and reports, from which the Mahdi and the Khalifa were able to thoroughly grasp the situation in Khartum. There was also a half-cyphered Arabic telegram from General Gordon to His Highness the Khedive, which Abdel Halim Effendi, formerly head clerk in Kordofan, was able to decypher. Amongst the consular reports, I found a notice of the death in Khartum of my old friend Ernst Marno, who had succumbed to fever.
The Mahdi now discussed, in my presence, what papers should be sent to Gordon, in order to convince him that the steamer had been wrecked, and Colonel Stewart and the others killed, thinking that this would force Gordon tosurrender. I pointed out that the only document likely to convince Gordon, was his military report, which I suggested should be returned; and, after a long discussion, it was decided to send it.
The crowds accompanying the Mahdi were now complaining greatly of the want of corn and dhurra; the price of an ardeb had risen to eighteen medjidie dollars, which were then equivalent to about nine pounds sterling. This extraordinary rate of exchange had been brought about by the scarcity of dollars, in consequence of which the treasurer had ordered the money captured at Berber—some £70,000 to £80,000 in gold—to be sent to the Mahdi's camp; and this had been distributed. At times, a sovereign valued even as little as a dollar and a half. Though dhurra was so expensive, the prices of sheep and cattle were unusually low,—a good ox or cow could be purchased for a dollar and a half or two dollars, and a calf for half a dollar. This arose from the fact that an immense number of cattle-owning Arabs had immigrated with the Mahdi from the west, and had brought their flocks and herds with them to the river; here the pasturage was quite insufficient for such quantities of animals. The Mahdi had therefore preached a sermon to the herdsmen, to the effect that tending flocks and herds, at the present time, was a useless occupation, and that all their attention should now be centred on fighting the religious war; consequently these ignorant people followed his advice, and sold their cattle at these absurdly low rates.
The next evening, my boy Morgan returned from his mission, but brought no reply. When I inquired how this was, he said, he had reached Omdurman fort, had delivered his letters, and, after waiting for a short time, the commandant had told him to return, as there was no answer. I at once took the boy to the Mahdi, to whom he repeated what had occurred; and afterwards I went and informed the Khalifa. That same evening, the Mahdi again summoned me, and ordered me to write another letter, which he said Gordon would be sure to answer, when he heard of theloss of the steamer. I at once expressed myself ready to carry out his wishes; and he directed that my boy Morgan should again act as messenger. Once more I betook myself to my angareb, and, by the flickering light of an old lantern, scribbled another letter, reporting the loss of the steamer, the death of Stewart, and repeating much of what I had said in my first letters, adding that if, in his opinion, I had done anything contrary to the honour of an officer, and if that had hindered him from writing to me, I begged he would give me a chance of defending myself, and thus give himself an opportunity of coming to a correct judgment.
Early the next morning, I went again with Morgan to the Mahdi; the latter ordered Ahmed Wad Suleiman to supply him with a donkey, and, taking my letter, he went off, returning the following morning with a reply from Consul Hansal, written in German, with an Arabic translation; it ran as follows:—
Dear Friend Slatin Bey,—Your letters have been duly received, and I request you will come to Tabia Ragheb Bey [Omdurman fort]. I wish to speak to you about the steps to be taken for our rescue; you may then return unmolested to your friend.Yours very truly,(Signed)Hansal.
Dear Friend Slatin Bey,—Your letters have been duly received, and I request you will come to Tabia Ragheb Bey [Omdurman fort]. I wish to speak to you about the steps to be taken for our rescue; you may then return unmolested to your friend.
Yours very truly,(Signed)Hansal.
This letter puzzled me somewhat; I could not be sure if it was written with the object merely of deceiving the Mahdi, in which case the Arabic was amply sufficient for the purpose; but I thought he might have written more clearly in German, though perhaps he conceived there might have been some one else with the Mahdi who understood that language, and I might have been thereby endangered. Then, taking the letter literally, he seemed to hint at joining us himself,—indeed we had already heard rumours that he, becoming alarmed at the probable fall of the town, wished to submit with the other Austrian subjects to the Mahdi; but it was of course quite impossible to say if he meant this or not. Then again, as regards myjoining Gordon in Khartum, could he really mean that the latter had refused to listen to my request, or was his expression that I "may then return unmolested to my friend" merely meant as a blind to the Mahdi?—I confess I was utterly perplexed; my suspense, however, was not of long duration.
I at once took the letter to the Mahdi, and explained to him that the Arabic text exactly corresponded with the German original. When he had finished reading it, he asked me if I wished to go, and I replied that I was ready to comply with his orders, and that my services were always at his disposal.
"I am rather afraid," said he, "that if you go to Omdurman to speak to your Consul, Gordon may arrest or kill you. Why did he not write to you himself, if he thinks well of you?"
"I do not know why he is so silent," said I; "perhaps it is contrary to his orders to enter into communication with us; however, when I meet Hansal I may be able to arrange matters. You say you are afraid Gordon might arrest me; but I am not, and even if he did I am quite sure you could release me; but as to his killing me, that is altogether out of the question."
"Well," said the Mahdi, "get yourself ready to go, and I will let you know."
On my way to the Mahdi's hut, I had heard of Lupton Bey's arrival from Bahr el Ghazal; and now, on my way back, I went in search of him, and found him outside the Khalifa's door waiting to be received. Although it was against rules to speak to any one before he had received the Mahdi's pardon, I could not resist greeting him heartily, and, in a few words, told him about the letters; and he said he earnestly hoped I might be allowed to go to Khartum. He told me he had left his servants and the rest of his people at some hours' distance, and he asked me to obtain the Khalifa's permission for them to come in. A few minutes afterwards, he was summoned before the Khalifa, obtained his pardon, was told that he might go andbring in his people, and that he would be presented to the Mahdi on his return.
Meanwhile, I went back to my quarters, and lay on my angareb impatiently awaiting my orders to be allowed to go to Omdurman; or had the Mahdi, perhaps, changed his mind, and decided not to let me go? At length, one of my boys came and told me that a mulazem of the Khalifa's wished to see me, and, getting up, he told me to follow him to Yakub's camp, where his master was waiting for me. Without a moment's delay, I bound my turban round my head, put on my hizam (belt), and followed. At Yakub's camp, we were told that the Khalifa had gone on to Abu Anga's zariba, where he was waiting for us. I was beginning to get suspicious; all this wandering about at night was very unusual. I knew how deceitful these people were, and I was therefore prepared for any eventuality. Arrived at Abu Anga's zariba, we were admitted by the sentry. It was an immense enclosure filled with little shelters made of strips of cotton fixed on poles, and separated from each other by small dhurra-stalk fences. We were directed to one of these shelters, and there, by the dim light of a lantern, I saw Yakub, Abu Anga, Fadl el Maula, Zeki Tummal, and Hajji Zubeir seated round in a circle talking earnestly; behind them stood several armed men; but no trace was to be seen of the Khalifa who, I had been told, had sent for me. I was now almost certain in my own mind that foul play was intended. The mulazem advanced and spoke to Yakub, and I was then summoned to enter, and to place myself between Hajji Zubeir and Fadl el Maula, while opposite to me sat Abu Anga.
"Abdel Kader," began Abu Anga, "you have promised to be faithful to the Mahdi; and it is your duty to keep your word; it is also your duty to obey orders, even should you suffer thereby. Is not this so?"
"Certainly," said I, "and you, Abu Anga, if you give me any orders from the Mahdi or the Khalifa, you will see that I know how to obey them."
"I received orders to make you a prisoner; but I do notknow the reason," said he; and, as he spoke, Hajji Zubeir snatched away my sword, which, as was customary, I had laid across my knees whilst speaking, and, handing it to Zeki Tummal, he seized my right arm with both hands.
"I did not come here to fight," said I to Hajji Zubeir; "why should you seize my arm; but you, Abu Anga, of course you must do as you are bidden."
What I had often inflicted on others, I was now about to undergo myself. Abu Anga then stood up, and also Hajji Zubeir and myself, when the latter let go my arm.
"Go to that tent," said Abu Anga, pointing to a shelter which, in the dark, I could scarcely see, "and you, Hajji Zubeir and the rest, go with him."
Accompanied by my gaoler, and some eight others, I went to the tent, where I was directed to sit on the ground, and chains were now brought out. Two large iron rings, bound together by a thick iron bar, were slipped over my feet, and then hammered close; an iron ring was placed round my neck, and to this was attached a long iron chain with the links so arranged that I had the greatest difficulty in moving my head. I endured all this in perfect silence; Hajji Zubeir then left, and I was told, by the two soldiers who were guarding me, to lie down on the palm-mat close by.
Left to myself, I had now time to collect my thoughts; and, first of all, I bitterly regretted not having attempted to escape on my horse to Khartum; but who could tell if Gordon would have received me? Now, in accordance with the Mahdi's orders, I was out of harm's way; but what was to be my fate? Was it to be that of Mohammed Pasha Said and Ali Bey Sherif? I was not in the habit of worrying about my personal concerns, and making life miserable. What had Madibbo told me, "Be obedient and patient; for he who lives long sees much." I had been obedient; it was now my turn to practise patience; and as for a long life, that was entirely in God's hands.
About an hour later, during which, as may be imagined, I had not slept, I saw several mulazemin approaching,carrying lanterns, and, as they neared the tent, I made out Khalifa Abdullahi walking in the middle. I stood up and waited for him.
"Abdel Kader," said he, when he saw me standing in front of him, "are you submitting with resignation to your fate?"
"Since my childhood," I replied quietly, "I have been accustomed to be obedient; now I must be obedient whether I like it or no."
"Your friendship with Saleh Wad el Mek," said he, "and your correspondence with Gordon, have cast suspicion on you, and we doubt if your heart is still inclined to us; that is the reason I have ordered you to be forcibly directed in the right way."
"I made no secret of my friendship with Saleh Wad el Mek," said I; "he is a friend of mine, and I believe he is loyal to you. As regards my correspondence with Gordon, the Mahdi ordered me to write the letters."
"Did he also order you to write what you did?" interrupted the Khalifa. "I think I wrote what the Mahdi required," I replied; "and no one knows the contents except myself and the person who received the letters. All I require, sire, is justice; and I beg that you will pay no heed to lying intriguers."
I was again alone, and tried to sleep, but was too excited. All sorts of strange thoughts and ideas coursed through my brain; the iron round my feet and neck too pained me considerably, and I could get no rest. I scarcely got a wink of sleep that night; and, at sunrise, Abu Anga came, followed by servants carrying some dishes of food. Seating himself beside me on the palm-mat, the food was placed before us; it was quite a feast, composed of meal, chickens, rice and milk, honey, roast meat and asida. But when I told him I had absolutely no appetite, he said, "I think, Abdel Kader, you are afraid; and that is why you do not eat."
"No," I replied, "it is not fear, but want of appetite. However, to please you, I will try and eat something;" andI managed to swallow a few mouthfuls, whilst Abu Anga did all he could to show that I was his honoured guest.
"The Khalifa," said he, "was rather disappointed yesterday, when he saw you were not humbled; and remarked you were strong-headed, and that, he supposed, was the reason you were not afraid."
"How could I throw myself at his feet," said I, "and crave his pardon for a crime I never committed? I am in his hands, and he can do as he likes with me."
"To-morrow, we shall advance," said Abu Anga, "and draw nearer to Khartum; we shall press the siege more closely, and then make a sudden attack. I shall ask the Khalifa to let you stay with me; that will be less hard for you than going to the common prison."
I thanked him for his kindness, and he then left.
All that day, I was quite alone, but went through my prayers most carefully in the sight of the bystanders, holding in my hand the rosary which all good Mohammedans carry; but in reality I was repeating over and over again the Lord's prayer. In the far distance, near Abu Anga's tent, I caught sight of my servants and horses and the little baggage I had. One of my boys also came and told me he had been ordered to attach himself to Abu Anga.
Early the next morning, the great war-drum sounded the advance; tents were struck, baggage packed and loaded on camels, and the whole camp was in movement. The weight of iron on my feet prevented me from walking, so they brought me a donkey; the long neck-chain—the number of figure-of-eight links of which I had amused myself in counting, and which amounted to eighty-three, each about a span long—I wrapped round and round my body, and in this iron casing I was lifted on to the donkey, and held in position by a man on each side, otherwise my weight would have made me overbalance and fall. On the march, several of my old friends passed, but dared do nothing but pity me in silence. We halted on some rising ground in the afternoon, and from here I could see thepalm-trees in Khartum; how I longed, as one of its garrison, to join in its defence!
The order was now given to make a temporary camp in this position, under Khalifa Abdullahi, whilst the principal Emirs went forward to select the site for a permanent camp. By this time, the pangs of hunger had seized me, and I longed for some of the food which Abu Anga had offered me yesterday; but the latter was now with the Khalifa, and had evidently forgotten all about us. However, the wife of one of my guards found him out, and brought him some stale dhurra-bread, which he shared with me. Next morning, we were again ordered to advance, and halted about an hour further on, at the spot selected for the main camp. As Abu Anga had promised, it was now arranged that I should definitely remain under his charge; a tattered old tent was pitched for me, and around it, close to the tent ropes, a thorn zariba was made. I was put in here, and the entrance, which was guarded by soldiers, was blocked by a large thorn-bush.
The Mahdi now ordered the siege to be vigorously pressed; that evening several Emirs were sent over to the east bank of the White Nile to reinforce Wad en Nejumi and Abu Girga; and all the local people were summoned to join in the investment. Abu Anga and Fadl el Maula were told off to besiege Omdurman fort, which was situated about five hundred yards from the river, on the west bank, and was defended by Faragalla Pasha,—a Sudanese officer who, in the space of one year, had been promoted from the rank of captain to that of general officer, by Gordon. Abu Anga succeeded in establishing himself between the fort and the river; and, by digging deep trenches, he obtained sufficient shelter to hold this advanced position in spite of the heavy fire from both the fort and the steamers; one of the latter he succeeded in sinking by shells fired from a gun he had placed in position; but the crew managed to escape to Khartum.[13]
During the siege, I was quite neglected; my guards were changed every day, and my welfare entirely depended on their treatment of me. If they happened to be slaves who had been captured, I was most carefully watched, and permitted to have no intercourse with any one; but if they happened to be old soldiers who knew me, I was not so closely restrained, and they often did me little services, though they prevented me from speaking to any one. My food was of the very worst description; and, Abu Anga being always occupied in the siege, I was left to the tender mercies of his wives, to whom he had given orders to feed me.
On one occasion, one of my former soldiers happened to be on guard over me, and I sent him with a message to Abu Anga's chief wife, complaining that I had been kept without food for two days; and I got back the answer, "Well, does Abdel Kader think we are going to fatten him up here, whilst his uncle, Gordon Pasha, does nothing but fire shells all day at our master, whose life is always in danger through his fault? If he had made his uncle submit, he would not now be in chains." From her own standpoint, the woman's views were perfectly justifiable.
Occasionally, some of the Greeks were allowed to come and see me, and they used to tell me the news.
On the day we arrived here, poor Lupton Bey was also thrown into chains, as he was suspected of attempting to join Gordon; besides, when his effects were searched, a document was found, signed by all the officers of his regular troops, stating that he had been forced to surrender his province. His wife and little daughter of five years old were sent to live at the Beit el Mal. The former had been brought up as a Black servant girl in the house of Rosset, formerly German Consul at Khartum, and, on his being appointed Governor of Darfur, she had accompanied him there; on his death at El Fasher, she went with Lupton to Equatoria and Bahr el Ghazal. By the Khalifa's orders, all Lupton's property was confiscated; but he allowed his wife and child the services of a Black female slave to help them in their daily work.
Oneday, George Calamatino brought me the news that the English army, under Lord Wolseley, was advancing slowly, and had reached Dongola; but they had delayed too long in Upper Egypt, and now that Khartum was in the greatest danger, their advanced guard was no further south than Dongola: under these circumstances, when could their main body arrive?
Some time after the proclamation of the abandonment of the Sudan had been made known, Gordon had given the Khartum people to understand that an English army was coming up to relieve them; and he had thus inspired the garrison and inhabitants with hope and courage. They had been, so to speak, given a new lease of life, and all eyes were anxiously turned to the north, from whence the expected help was to come. Would it come in time?—that was the question.
These days passed in my tattered tent were full of hopes and fears. It was not that I was concerned about my own safety, but I could not help anticipating coming events with the greatest anxiety; how would it all end, and what was to be my future?
Poor Lupton, in company with some Dervishes, was forced to work a gun which had been placed in position opposite Tuti Island. He had been promised that, in recompense for this work, the condition of his wife and child would be improved, and they would be given better means of subsistence.
Abdalla Wad Ibrahim also came to me, and said it was the Mahdi's earnest wish that I should take charge of a gun; and, if I worked it faithfully, he would give me my liberty. I replied that I was too ill and weak to work laden with these chains; and, besides, I had no idea how guns were worked; and that therefore it was impossible for me to buy my liberty at this price.
"Perhaps," said Wad Ibrahim, "you are unwilling to fire on Gordon, who is said to be your uncle, and that is your reason for making these excuses?"
"I have neither uncle nor any other relatives in Khartum,"said I; "and my shells alone would certainly not force Khartum to surrender; however, my present state of health will not admit of my undertaking this work."
Abdalla rose and left me; and, a few hours later, some of the Khalifa's mulazemin came and forged on to my ankles another set of iron rings and a bar,—to humble me I suppose; but as the weight I already bore prevented me from standing upright, and I was obliged to remain lying down day and night, an iron more or less did not make much difference.
The next few days passed without anything noteworthy occurring. Occasionally I heard the crack of the rifles and the booming of the guns of besieger and besieged; but the Greeks were not allowed to come and see me now, and I was in complete ignorance of what was going on.
One night about four hours after sunset, when blessed sleep, which makes one forget all one's troubles, was gradually stealing over me, I was suddenly roused by the sentry, and ordered to get up at once; as I did so, I saw one of the Khalifa's mulazemin, who announced that his master was just coming; and, as he spoke, I saw men approaching carrying lanterns. What could the Khalifa want of me at such an hour? I asked myself in great perplexity.
"Abdel Kader," said he, in a kindly tone, as he approached, "sit down;" and, his servants having stretched out his sheepskin, he sat on it beside me. "I have here," he continued, "a piece of paper; and I want you to tell me what is written on it, and so prove to me your fidelity."
"Certainly, if I can do so," said I, taking the paper. It was about half the size of a cigarette paper, and there was plain writing in black ink on both sides of it. I at once recognised Gordon's handwriting and signature; I held the paper close to the lantern, and saw the following words written in French:—