No sooner had my “latest intelligence” been sent off by Onoor, than an arsenal carpenter, Mohammad Ragheb, came to me on the subject of the remaining torpedoes. He had been ordered to assist in the laying of them, and was particularly anxious to learn from me how he might render them useless, and no less anxious that I should make a mental note of the fact so that I could say a “good word” for him if ever he was accused of trying to impede the advance of the “Government.” Associated with him was a no particular friend of mine—Ali Baati, and others; but there was no mistaking their earnest desire and real anxiety to circumvent all the schemes of Mansour, Hassanein, and Abdallah in favour of the Government troops.
Ragheb could give me no more information as to the firing medium of the mines than could Burrai; all he could tell me was that the “barrels” had the wires wrapped two or three times round them to prevent their being pulled or dragged in removal. I suggested first that he should chip away any cement which he thought filled any hole or crevice; this would allow of the water penetrating. Next I suggested that he should, as the boats carrying the mines went down |256| the river, try and “snip” any or all of the wires running round the “barrel,” but cutting the wires in different places, so that the trick would not be discovered. Ragheb must have succeeded, for neither of the mines exploded, although Mansour had appointed people to fire them as the gunboats passed.
It is impossible for me, away from the spot where association would bring to memory the incidents of those stirring times, to remember the names of all who came to me asking what they might do to evidence, before the arrival of the troops, their loyalty to the Government, and it must not be forgotten that they were running risks in fighting Mahdieh. It is but right that I should record the one or two striking examples which occur to me, especially in the face of my oft-expressed opinion that there are one or two released captives, who should not even be allowed the formality of a drum-head court-martial.
CHAPTER XXI NEARING THE END
Events were now following each other in rapid succession. In the universal excitement prevailing, sleep was almost unknown, drums were beaten and ombeyehs blown continuously day and night, days and dates were lost count of; even Friday, that one day in the week in Mahdieh, was lost sight of by most, and the prayers were left unsaid.
Councils of war were the order of the day—and night; and what tales we heard! The Emir Abd-el-Baagi had been entrusted by the Khaleefa and Yacoub with keeping in touch with the advancing armies, and sending to Omdurman information of every movement. Never was a general better served with “intelligence” than was Abdullahi by Abd-el-Baagi; his messengers were arriving every few hours in the early days, and hourly towards the end. It was with no little astonishment that we heard Sabalooka was to be abandoned. The boom of chains which was to entangle the paddles of the gunboats had snapped, therefore it was the will of Allah that the boats were to come on. Then the mines exploded. Again it was Allah, who in this showed that |258| he would not have His designs interfered with. The real truth of the matter was, that the troops at Sabalooka, hearing that the gunboats had guns which could send one of the “devils” (shells) half a day’s journey, and over hills too, took upon themselves to retire out of range.
There was an old prophecy to the effect that the great fight would take place on the plains of Kerreri. Here the infidels were to be exterminated, and all the waverers on the side of the faithful were to be killed, the remnant collecting afterwards and then starting off, a purified army, on the conquest of the whole world. Again, it was decided that the faithful were to collect in Omdurman, and allow the infidels to come on. While attacks were being made against them on the western flank and rear, a great sortie was to be made from the town, when the infidels, pressed back to Kerreri plains, would be caught between three fires, and exterminated. The gunboats, with their “devils,” would be afraid to shoot, as they would kill their own people. But no sooner had this been decided upon when objections were raised. Those gunboats could anchor half a day’s journey off, knock Omdurman to pieces, and bury the faithful under the ruins.
Again the prophecy was alluded to, and a move out to meet the armies finally decided upon. Every man was to be taken out of Omdurman, so that, if the infidels should succeed in reaching the town, they would find only women and children, and instead of their being the besiegers, they would become the besieged. |259|
Omdurman was overrun by Abdullahi’s spies, who, professing to be friendly towards the “Government,” tried to wheedle out of known friends of the Government expressions of opinion as to the chances of success to the Mahdists’ arms, and at the same time to ascertain the general feeling of the populace. Their favourite hunting-ground was of course the Saier, where the more influential people were incarcerated. From the persistence with which these spies pressed their inquiries as to the chances of success which might attend large bodies deserting to the Ingleezee under cover of darkness—their anxiety to learn how they might approach the camp without being fired upon before they had been given an opportunity of evidencing their peaceable intentions—we came to the conclusion that Abdullahi had been advised to make a night attack. Few knew better than we did what might be the result of such a tactic. At close quarters the dervish horde was more than a match for the best-drilled army in Europe. Swift and silent in their movements, covering the ground at four or five times the speed of trained troops, every man, when the moment of attack came, accustomed to fight independently of orders, lithe and supple, nimble as cats and as bloodthirsty as starving man-eating tigers, utterly regardless of their own lives, and capable of continuing stabbing and jabbing with spear and sword while carrying half a dozen wounds, any one of which would have put a European hors de combat—such were the 75,000 to 80,000 warriors which the Khaleefa had ready to attack the Sirdar’s little army. Artillery, |260| rifles, and bayonets would have been but of little avail against a horde like this rushing a camp by night.
We had heard from the prisoner deserters how, at the Atbara, the armies had advanced by night and delivered their attack at dawn, first shelling the zareeba with their “devils,” which “came from such a great distance.” With Fauzi, Hamza the Jaalin, and others, I came to the conclusion that the same tactics would be employed for the attack at Kerreri; therefore, to the spies we swore that the English never did things twice in the same way; that they would on this occasion march during the day and attack at night, since the Sirdar would be afraid to let his soldiers see the Khaleefa’s great army, as they would all run away if they did. Our advice was that the faithful should remain in their camp, and await the attack. It would have been very awkward for me had the Sirdar planned a night attack, for he would have found the dervishes on the qui vive awaiting him, and then I might have been blamed for the advice I had given. However, I believed that a night attack would be the very last thing he would resort to, and any tale from our side was good enough, provided doubts were raised in the minds of the Khaleefa and his advisers as to the chances of success which would attend his attacking by night.