A Prisoner of the Khaleefa: Twelve Years Captivity at Omdurman

by Charles Neufeld

While the struggle was still in progress, Hasseena, who with Elias had followed us up, ran to me saying that the dervishes were returning, and, looking in the direction of “E,” I saw about a hundred and fifty men advancing at a rapid pace. I raised the alarm, and Ismail gave the call to arms; but few heard his voice in the din. Those few fired a few shots, but it was now too late; in a moment the dervishes were upon us, friend and foe one struggling mass. Above the noise could be heard the voice of the dervish leader reminding |26| his men of some orders they had received, and to “secure their men alive.” Even in that moment it flashed upon me that we had been led into an ambush, else why the reference to “our master’s orders” given by their leader? Elias, Hasseena, and I ran towards “F” to take cover; it was no use my using my fowling-piece on that struggling mass, as I should have struck friend and foe. Just as we reached the base of the hillock, Elias was captured, and the five or six dervishes who had pursued us occupied themselves with examining the contents of the bag he was carrying—my three hundred dollars, jewellery, etc. They gave a mere glance towards me, and then moved off.

Pushing a few stones together, I laid out my cartridges, reloaded my revolvers, and prepared to die fighting. Ismail, the leader of our caravan, had by some means managed to get clear of the mass, and, reaching my camel, mounted it and rode off, riding hard to the right of “F.” Seeing Hasseena and me, he called to us to try and secure camels and follow him up. Hasseena on this ran down the hillock; I had not noticed her disappearance from the immediate vicinity of the hillock, as I was too much occupied hurriedly making my diminutive zareeba of stones. Glancing over the stones later, I was astonished to see her walking at the head of the dervishes who had secured Elias, they following in Indian file. Hasseena called out that I was given quarter, and that I was to stand up unarmed. This I refused to do, and as they kept advancing, I kept my gun pointed at them from between the stones. Hasseena again called out, |27| saying that they had orders not to hurt me, in evidence of which they fired their rifles into the air, and then laid them on the sand.

By this time I could see that our men were bound, and grouped together on the plain; I left my cover, descended the hillock, and advanced to the dervishes, when I was saluted with yells and cries of “El Kaffir, El Kaffir” (“the unbeliever”). One, maybe more fanatical than the rest, after vituperating me, made a motion as if to strike at my head with his sword. Looking him in the eyes, I asked, “Is this the word of honour (meaning quarter) of your Prophet and master; you liar, you son of a dog? strike, unclean thing!” While, as is only to be expected, I was at that moment trembling with fear and excitement, I had lived too long in the East to forget that a bold front and fearless manner command respect, if not fear. My words and manner had the desired effect, for one, turning to my would-be assailant, asked, “What are you doing? Have you forgotten our master’s orders?” This was the second time something had been said about “orders.” I put a few questions to my captors, but they declined to reply to them, saying that I could speak to the Emirs Hamza and Farag, and they hurried me towards them. The Emir, whom later I knew to be Farag, asked my name, and what I wanted in his country; then, turning to his followers without waiting for a reply, called out, “This is the Pasha our master Wad en Nejoumi sent us to capture; thanks be to God we have taken him unhurt.” The latter remark was |28| made as a reproof to the man who had threatened to strike me, as the incident had been reported, and also as a warning to the others.

Taking me apart from the others, he continued, “I see you are thirsty;” and, calling up one of his men, told him to pour some water over some hard dry bread, and, handing it to me, said smilingly, “Eat—it is not good for you to drink.” I divined his meaning. Had our men not made that mad rush for the water, we might have had a very different tale to tell, and who knows if, had we won the day and reached Sheikh Saleh, the history of the Soudan for the past twelve years might not have read differently? Mine would have done so.

CHAPTER III IN THE HANDS OF THE DERVISHES

I was handed over to two men, who were held responsible for my well-being; Hasseena and Elias were placed together in the charge of others, and we were ordered to seat ourselves a little distance away. The dervishes had with them military tents which must have been taken at Khartoum, and one was soon pitched. Here the Emirs and principal men met to hold a conference and inquiry. Darb es Safai and others were taken up one by one, and the question put to them direct, “Where are the rifles and the cartridges?” for no case had, of course, been brought on with us to the wells. They denied any knowledge of them; then replied Farag, “We will find them for you, and show you how they are used.” My turn came, and in reply to the usual question, I said that I knew nothing at all about them; questioned still further, I admitted that I had seen a number of boxes, but I could not pretend to know what was inside of them. Asked then as to where they were, I said I could not tell—in the desert somewhere; they had been thrown away, as the camels, being tired and |30| thirsty, could not carry them any longer. Still interrogated, I replied that the guide who had brought us here was the first killed in the firing, and that I did not think any one else of our caravan could find their way back to the place where the boxes were left.

At this, rapid glances were passed from one to the other. Asked if I was sure he was killed, I could only reply that my clerk had told me so, that I had seen him fall, and indicated the place. Farag sent off a man in that direction after whispering some instructions to him, and during the few minutes he was away perfect silence reigned in the tent, with the exception of the click, click of the beads of the Sibha (rosary). When he returned, he whispered his reply to Farag. Two of the Alighat Arabs who had joined us at Wadi Halfa were next brought up and questioned; they did not give direct replies; they were taken aside, but not far enough away to prevent my overhearing part of what went on, when, as a result of promises and then threats, I gathered that they undertook to lead the dervishes to the spot where the cases had been left in the desert. It is quite certain, from the questions put by the dervishes, that they were ignorant of the precise spot where the baggage had been left, and it in a measure confirmed the death of Hassan; but I have always had a suspicion that the man shammed death and got away, to present himself later on to Nejoumi. He might easily have mingled with the dervishes and not been seen by us.

The sun had now set; the conference ended, and orders were given by Farag for all to march back by |31| the route we had come, the Alighat Arabs, with Amin between them, leading. We marched for only an hour or so, for our camels, being tired and not having been watered, gave trouble. A halt was called for the night, and what water the dervishes had was partly distributed. By sunrise the next day we were on the march again, twenty-five men, well mounted, having been sent on in advance with the guides. All Saleh’s men, wounded and sound, were compelled to walk, the dervishes and their wounded riding on camels.

In the afternoon we reached the spot where we had left the four men in charge of the baggage, to find them with their hands bound behind them. The advance party had reached them about ten o’clock in the morning, and had doubtless found them asleep, as no shots had been fired. The men were not to be blamed in any way, and it really mattered but little whether they were asleep or awake when taken, with the odds against them. I had, on starting for the wells, left them the little water I had saved; had they not had this, they could not have slept.

In the same way that Saleh’s men had forgotten everything in that mad rush for the water, so did the dervishes break loose, forget all about their prisoners, and rush on the pile of cases. The ground was soon littered with rifles, packets of ammunition, sugar, clothing, food, and the hundred and one articles to be found in a trading caravan, for the cases and bales of the Arabs who had joined us at Wadi Halfa contained only merchandise. My mind was soon made up; running towards the other prisoners with my |32| hunting-knife, I thought that at all events the thongs of a few might be cut, and making for the camels and scattering in different directions, a few might have got clear. It was a mad idea, but it was something. Before any part of my half-formed plan could be put into execution, the guards were down on us. I was taken to the Emir, Said Wad Farag, but I excused myself, saying that, being a medical man, I had gone to see if I could attend to any of the wounded. Complimenting me on my thought for the others, he recommended me to think of myself, appropriated the knife the guards had found in my hand, and told me he would let me know when to use it, warning me at the same time not to attempt to speak to any of the other prisoners.