With Kitchener in the Soudan : a story of Atbara and Omdurman

by G. A. Henty

  " Well, Hilliard," the General said kindly, " even the certain knowledge of his death is better than the fear that he might be in slavery. You told me you had no remembrance of him?"

  "None, sir; but of course my mother had talked of him so often, and had several photographs of him—the last taken at Cairo before he left,—so that I almost seem to have known him. However, I do feel it as a relief to know that he is not, as I feared was remotely possible, a slave among the Baggara; but I think it is hard that after having gone through two years of trials and sufferings he should have been murdered on his way home."

  "No doubt that is so. Have you read your father's diary yet?"

  "No, sir; I have not had the heart to do so, and shall put it off until the shock that this has given n;c has passed away. I feel that a little hard work will be the best thing for me; is there any chance of it?"

  " You have just returned in time. I am going up the Blue Nile to-morrow morning to clear out the villages, which no doubt are all full of fugitives. I am glad that you have come back; I was speaking of you to-day to General Bundle, who is in command. One of the objects of the expedition is to prevent Fadil from crossing the river. He was advancing from Gedareh at the head of ten thousand troops to join the Khalifa, and

  was but forty miles away on the day after we took this place; but when he received the news of our victory he fell back. If he can cross he will bring a very formidable reinforcement to the Khalifa. We know that Colonel Parsons started from Kassala on the 7th, his object being to capture Gedareh during the absence of Fadil. He is to cross the Atbara at El Fasher, and will then march up this bank of the river till he is at the nearest point to Gedareh. It is probable that he will not strike across before the 18th or the 20th. His force is comparatively small, and we do not know how large a garrison Fadil will have left there. Altogether we are uneasy about the expedition. It is very desirable that Parsons should know that Fadil is retiring, and that, so far as we can learn from the natives, he has not yet crossed the Blue Nile. Gedareh is said to be a strong place, and once there, Parsons might hold it against Fadil until we can send him reinforcements. In order to convey this information to him we require someone on whom we can absolutely rely. I said that if you were here I felt sure that you would volunteer for the service. Of course it is to a certain extent a dangerous one, but I think that, speaking the language as you do, and as you have already been among the Dervishes, you might, even if taken prisoner, make out a good story for yourself."

  " I would undertake the commission with pleasure," Gregory said. " I shall, of course, go in native dress."

  " I propose that we carry you a hundred miles up the river with us, and there land you. From that point it would not be more than sixty or seventy miles across the desert to the Atbara, which you would strike forty or fifty miles above El Fasher. Of course you would be able to learn there whether Parsons had crossed. If he had, you would ride up the bank till you overtake him; if he had not, you would probably meet him at Mugatta, he must cross below that, as it is there he leaves the river."

  " That seems simple enough, sir. My story would be that I was one of the Dervishes who had escaped from the battle.

  here, and had stopped at a village, thinking that I was sahj from pursuit, until your boats came along, and that I then crossed the desert to go to Gedareh, where I thought I should be safe. That would surely carry me through. I shall want two fast camels—one for myself and one for my boy."

  " These we can get for you from Abdul Azil, the Abadah sheik. Of course you will put on Dervish robes and badges ?"

  " Yes, sir."

  " I will go across and tell General Rundle, and obtain written instructions for you to carry dispatches to Parsons. I will give them to you when you go up on the boat in the morning. I will see at once about the camels, and ask the Intelligence people to get you two of the Dervish suits. You will also want rifles."

  "Thank you, sir! I have a couple of Eemingtons, and plenty of ammunition for them. I have two spears also which I picked up when we came in here."

  "We are off again, Zaki," he said when he returned to his hut, where the black was engaged in sweeping up the dust and arranging everything as usual.

  " Yes, master." Zaki suspended his work. " When do we go?"

  " To-morrow morning."

  "Do we take everything with us?"

  "No; I start in uniform. We shall both want Dervish dresses, but you need not trouble about them—they will be got for us."

  " Then we are going among the Dervishes again?"

  "Well, I hope we are not; but we may meet some of them. We are going with the expedition up the Blue Nile, and will then land and strike across the desert to the Atbara. That is enough for you to know at present. We shall take our guns and spears with us."

  Zaki had no curiosity. If his master was going it was of course all right—his confidence in him was absolute. In about an hour a native from the Intelligence Department

  brought down two Dervish dresses complete. They had still three hours before mess, and Gregory sat down on his bed and opened his father's pocket-book, which he had had no opportunity to do since it came into his possession.

  CHAPTER XVII

  A FUGITIVE

  I DO not suppose," the diary began, " that what I write here will ever be read. It seems to me that the chances are immeasurably against it. Still, there is a possibility that it may fall into the hands of some of my countrymen when, as will surely be the case, the Mahdi's rebellion is crushed and order restored; and I intend, so long as I live, to jot down from time to time what happens to me, in order that the only person living interested in me, my wife, may possibly some day get to know what my fate has been. Therefore, should this scrap of paper and other scraps that may follow it be ever handed to one of my countrymen, I pray him to send it to Mrs. Hilliard, care of the manager of the Bank at Cairo. It may be that this, the first time I write, may be the last, and I therefore before all things wish to send her my heart's love, to tell her that my last thoughts and my prayers will be for her, and that I leave it entirely to her whether to return to England in accordance with the instructions I left her before leaving, or to remain in Cairo.

  " It is now five days since the battle. It cannot be called a battle. It was not fighting; it was a massacre. The men, after three days' incessant fighting, were exhausted and worn-out, half-mad with thirst, half-mutinous at being brought into the desert, as they said, to die; thus, when the Dervishes rushed down in a mass the defence was feeble. Almost before we knew what had happened the enemy had burst in on one (M917) " s

  side of the square. Then all was wild confusion—camels and Dervishes, flying Egyptians, screaming camp-followers, were all mixed in confusion. The other sides of the square were also attacked. Some of our men were firing at those in their front, others turning round and shooting into the crowded mass in the square. I was with a black regiment on the side opposite to where they burst in. The white officer who had been in command had fallen ill, and had been sent back a few days after we left Khartoum, and as I had been for weeks before that aiding him to the best of my powers, and there were no other officers to spare, Hicks asked me to take his place. As I had done everything I could for the poor fellows' comfort on the march, they had come to like me and to obey my orders as promptly as those of their former commander.

  " As long as the other two sides of the square stood firm, I did so; but they soon gave way. I saw Hicks with his staff charge into the midst of the Dervishes, and then lost sight of them. Seeing that all was lost, I called to my men to keep together, to march off in regular order, and repel all assaults, as this was the only hope there was of getting free. They obeyed my orders splendidly. Two or three times the Dervishes charged upon them, but the blacks were as steady as rocks, and their volleys were so fatal that the enemy finally left us alone, preferring to aid in the slaughter of the panic-stricken Egj^ptians, and to share the spoil. We made for the wells. Each man drank his fill; those who h
ad water-bottles filled them. We then marched on towards El Obeid, but before nightfall the Dervish horse had closed up round us. At daylight their infantry had also arrived, and fighting began.

  " All day we held our position, killing great numbers but losing many men ourselves. By night our water was exhausted. Then the soldiers offered to attack the enemy, but they were twenty to one against us, and I said to them, 'No, fight one day longer if we can hold on. The Dervishes may retire or they may offer us terms.' So we stood. By the

  next evening we had lost half our number. After they had drawn off, one of the Dervish emirs came in with a white flag and offered life to all who would surrender and would wear the badge of the Mahdi and be his soldiers. I replied that an answer should be given in the morning. When he had left I gathered the men together.You have fought nobly,' I said, 'but you have scarce a round of ammunition left. If we fight again to-morrow we shall all be slaughtered. I thank you in the name of the Khedive for all that you have done, but I do not urge you to reject the terms offered. Your deaths would not benefit the Khedive. As far as I am concerned you are free to accept the terms offered.'

  " They talked for some time together, and then the three native officers who were still alive came forward.

  "'Bimbashi,' they said, 'what will be done about you? We are Mahomedans and their countrymen, but you are a white man and a Christian. You would not fight for the Mahdi?'

  " 'No,' I said, 'I would not fight for him, nor would I gain my life at the price of being his slave. I wish you to settle the matter without any reference to me. I will take my chance. I may not be here in the morning. One man might escape where many could not. All I ask is that I may not be watched. If in the morning I am not here, you can all say that I disappeared, and you do not know how. I do not myself know what I am going to do yet.'

  " They went away, and in a quarter of an hour returned and said that the men would surrender. If they had water and ammunition they would go on fighting till the end; but as they had neither, they would surrender.

  "I felt that this was best. The Soudanese love battle, and would as readily fight on one side as on the other. They have done their duty well to the Khedive, and will doubtless fight as bravely for the Mahdi.

  " The men lay in a square as they had fought, with sentries placed to warn them should the Dervishes make a night-attack.

  British troops would have been well-nigh maddened with thirst after being twenty-four hours without water and fighting all day in the blazing sun, but they felt it little. Thej r were thirsty, but in their desert marches they are accustomed to thirst and to hold on for a long time without water. I was better off, for I had drunk sparingly the day before from my water-bottle and had still a draught left in it.

  "I waited until I thought that the men were all asleep; then I stripped and stained myself from head to foot. I had carried stain with me, in case I might have to go out as a native to obtain information. In my valise I had a native dress and a native cloth, in which I could have passed as a peasant, but not as one of the Baggara. However, I put it on, passed through the sleeping men, and went up to a sentry.

  "You know me,' I said.I am your Bimbashi. I am going to try and get through their lines; but if it is known how I have escaped I shall be pursued and slain. Will you swear to me that if you are questioned you will say you know nothing of my flight?'

  "' I swear by the beard of the Prophet,' the man said.May Allah protect you, my lord!'

  "Then I went on. The night was fairly dark, and as the Dervishes were nearly half a mile away I had no fear of being seen by them. There were many of their dead scattered about, seventy or eighty yards from our square. I had all along felt convinced that it would be impossible to pass through their lines; therefore I went to a spot where I had noticed that a number had fallen close together, and went about examining them carefully. It would not have done to have chosen the dress of an emir, as his body might have been examined, but the ordinary dead would pass unnoticed. I first exchanged the robe for one marked with the Mahdi's patches. It was already smeared with blood. I then carried the body of the man whose robe I had taken off for some distance. I laid him down on his face, thinking that the absence of the patches would not be seen. Then I crawled

  some thirty or forty yards nearer to the Dervishes, so that it would seem that I had strength to get that far before dying. Then I lay down partly on my side, so that the patches would show, but with my face downwards on my arm.

  " I had, before dyeing my skin, cut my hair close to my head, on which I placed the Dervish's turban. The only property that I brought out with me was a revolver and this pocket-book. Both of these I buried in the sand; the pocket-book a short distance away, the pistol lightly covered and within reach of my hand, so that I could grasp it and sell my life dearly if discovered.

  " Soon after daylight I heard the triumphant yells of the Dervishes, and knew that my men had surrendered. Then there was a rush of horse and foot, and much shouting and talking. I lifted my head slightly and looked across. Not a Dervish was to be seen in front of me. I felt that I had better move, so, taking up my pistol and hiding it, I crawled on my hands and knees to the spot where I had hidden this book, and then got up on to my feet and staggered across the plain as if sorely wounded and scarcely able to drag my feet along. As I had hoped, no one seemed to notice me, and I saw three or four other figures also making their way painfully towards where the Dervishes had encamped.

  " Here were a few camels standing untended. Everyone had joined in the rush for booty—a rush to be met with bitter disappointment, for, with the exception of the arms of the fallen, and what few valuables they might have about their person, there was nothing to be gained. I diverged from the line I had been following, kept on until there was a dip in the ground that would hide me from the sight of those behind, then I started to run, and at last threw myself down in the scrub four or five miles away from the point from which I had started. I was perfectly safe for the present. The Dervishes were not likely to search over miles of the desert, dotted as it was with thick bushes. The question was as to the future. My position was almost as bad as could be; I was

  without food or water, and there were hundreds of miles of desert between me and Khartoum. At every water-hole I should almost certainly find parties of Dervishes.

  " From time to time I lifted my head and saw several large parties of the enemy moving in the distance. They were evidently bound on a journey, and were not thinking of looking for me. I chewed the sour leaves of the camel bush, and this to some extent alleviated my thirst. I determined at last that I would, in the first place, march to the wells towards which we had been pressing when the Dervishes came up to us. They were nearly three miles south of the spot where the square had stood. No doubt Dervishes would be there, but if discovered by them it was better to die so than of thirst. Half an hour before the sun sank I started. No horsemen were in sight, and if any were to come along I could see them long before they could notice me. Knowing the general direction, I was fortunate enough to get sight of the palm-grove which surrounded the wells before darkness set in.

  "It lay about two miles away, and there were certainly moving objects round it. I lay down until twilight had passed, and then went forward. When within two or three hundred yards of the grove, I lay down again and Avaited. That the Dervishes would all go to sleep, however long I might wait, was too much to hope for. They would be sure to sit and talk far into the night of the events of the last three or four days. Shielding myself as well as I could by the bushes, I crawled up until I was in the midst of some camels which were browsing. Here I stood up, and then walked boldly into the grove. As I had expected, two or three score of Dervishes were sitting in groups, talking gravely. They had destroyed the Turks (as they always called the Egyptians and their infidel white leaders), but had suffered heavily themselves. The three hundred Soudanese who had surrendered, and who had taken service with the Mahdi, were but poor compensation for the losses they had s
uffered.

  "A year ago,' one old sheik said,I was the father of eight

  brave sons. Now they have all gone before me. Four of them fell in the assaults at El Obeid, two at Baria, and the last two have now been killed. I shall meet them all again in the abode of the blessed, and the sooner the better, for I have no one left to care for.' Others had tales of the loss of relations and friends, but I did not wait to listen further. Taking up a large water gourd that stood empty at the foot of one of the trees, I boldly walked to the well, descended the rough steps at the water's edge, and drank till I could drink no longer, and then, filling the gourd, went up again. No one noticed me. Had they looked at me they would have seen even in the darkness the great patches down the front of the robe, but I don't think anyone did notice me. Other figures were moving about from group to group, and I kept on through the grove until beyond the trees. I came out on the side opposite to that which I had entered, and, as I expected, found some of the Dervish horses grazing among the bushes.

  "No guard was placed over them, as the}'' were too well trained to wander far. I went out to them and chose the poorest, which happened to be farther among the bushes than the others. I had thought the matter well over. If a good horse were taken, there would be furious pursuit as soon as it was missed, and this might be soon, for the Arabs are passionately fond of their favourite horses—more so than they are of their families. While I had been waiting at the edge of the wood more than one had come out to pat and fondle his horse and give it a handful of dates. But a poor animal would meet with no such attention, and the fact that he was missing was not likely to be discovered till daylight. Probably no great search would be made for it; the others would ride on, and its owner might spend some hours in looking about, thinking it had strayed away and was lying somewhere among the bushes.