CHAPTER XXII.
TRICK OR MIRACLE.
Long years of asceticism had made the man who claimed to be the long-promised Mahdi almost ethereal in appearance.
There was a brightness about his eyes which fairly fascinated one.
His skin was as smooth as that of a child, his teeth even and regular, his forehead high and broad, while his jet-black mustache and beard gave him a look of authority.
It is very easy to believe that the appearance of such a man, added to the sanctity of his life, impressed the untutored Arabs with a belief in his pretensions.
Had this Mahdi lived five hundred years ago, he would have subjugated Europe easily.
“I am the Mahdi!”
Soldiers dropped their weapons and many prostrated themselves on the ground.
The victory was a very easy one, and the governor of Fashoda fell back with his troops.
The Mahdi did not pursue, but gathered his forces together and commenced the march into the mountain fastness.