On leaving Wadi Halfa, he had expected to find, as he had found in Europe and the part of Egypt he had tramped through, villages or towns within the day’s tramp. He had not the slightest idea of what the desert was until he found himself in it. After some days of wandering, during which he eat pieces of his |142| worn-out boots in lieu of other food, he struck the Nile, and, wandering along, ignorant of the direction he was taking, he came upon a party of dervishes, whom he tried to communicate with, and after, by gesticulations, showing them that he wanted bread or food, he commenced to “soothe the savage breast” with strains from his violin. They took him prisoner, destroyed his instrument, and sent him on to Omdurman as a spy. On arrival there, he was ushered into the presence of the Khaleefa, who was undecided as to whether he had a madman or an actor to deal with, for on dates being brought for Joseppi to eat, he threw them about, and then lay flat on his face. He was sent to prison and heavily chained; in the process of having his chains and bars fitted, he fainted away.
Gaoler.
Neufeld.
Gaoler.
Son of Fauzi Pasha.
Fauzi Pasha.
MEAL-TIME IN THE SAIER.
Joseppi was in my charge for about one year, and while being as harmless as a child, he caused me endless trouble. During the day he would remain perfectly quiet, but at night-time he would insist upon singing or humming. As his tunes had neither beginning nor end, and were composed of notes snatched from here and there, we soon tired of it, and Joseppi received a light flogging on one occasion for not “shutting his mouth” when requested to do so. I remonstrated with him after he had been flogged, and told him that he should not continue to hum after other prisoners had asked him to keep quiet. He ruminated over this, and thinking, maybe, at the moment that I was taking the part of the others against him, he went off to the Saier, and told him |143| confidentially that I was a great and well-known general in Europe, and a few other things. Joseppi had an enormous appetite, and was always hungry; he caused me a great deal of trouble during the worst days of the famine, when food was so scarce, for after sharing my scanty meal, he would wander off and pester every group for a scrap of food. Eventually, we had to provide three bowls for him; just when our food came in, we handed him his bowls, and thus were allowed a few moments’ peace. We had finished our meal before he had finished his food, so that our group, at least, was free of his importunities. He came to grief through eating pieces of camel-skin, which the gaolers used to sell to the poorer prisoners during the famine.
Fearing that he would die in the prison, I sent word to the “Christian” quarter, asking that the Khaleefa should be prayed to release Joseppi, which was done, and he found congenial employment for a time in the bakery of Youssef Sawar. Soon afterwards, he borrowed a few dollars here and there for the purpose of buying grain at El Fun; he started off dressed in a new jibbeh, carrying his dollars, and a well-stocked basket of provisions for his two days’ journey. At the very moment when Wad Adlan was pleading with the Khaleefa to release me from prison, so that I could assist him in the work of the Beit-el-Mal, a deputation of the captives arrived at the door of the house to tell the Khaleefa that Joseppi must have escaped, as he should have been back in Omdurman some days ago. Turning to Wad Adlan, |144| the Khaleefa said, “El boomi mahhgaad—Abdulla Neufeld ogud? Khallee ossbur.” (“The fool did not stop—when he had the chance to escape. Will Neufeld? Let him wait a bit.”) This was the second time the poor fellow had cost me my liberty. There is no doubt that the man was murdered for the sake of his food or money, for his remains were found later, on the road between Khartoum and El Fun.