I was young, strong, and keen to have some fighting experience, and I well remember my delight at the thought of a brush with Sultan Harun. The idea of difficulties and fatigue never crossed my mind; all I longed for was a chance of showing my men that I could lead them. At sunrise I halted my little party, which consisted of two hundred Blacks,—the officers also being Sudanese,—and the horsemen Turks and Egyptians, and addressed them in a short speech, saying that at present I was an entire stranger to them, but they should see I was ready to share fatigue and discomfort with them on all occasions, and that I hoped we should march rapidly forward with a good heart. Simple as my harangue undoubtedly was, I saw that it had made an impression, and when I had finished, they raised their rifles above their heads, in Sudanese fashion, and shouted that they were ready to conquer or die.

At noon we halted near a village, and I then carefully inspected the men. They were all well armed, and had a plentiful supply of ammunition; each man was also provided with a water-bottle made out of goat or gazelle skin, known as "sen" (pl. siun); but they had brought no rations with them. On inquiry, I was told, "Wherever you go in Darfur you will always find something to eat." I therefore made my way to the Sheikh of the village, and asked him to supply some dukhn. This corn is generally soaked in water, then pressed, mixed with tamarind fruit, and eaten in this condition; the bitter-sweet water being an excellent thirst-quencher. This food Europeans usually find indigestible; but it is very nourishing, and is eaten almost exclusively by the Sudanese soldiers when campaigning. I gradually got accustomed to it, taking it almost invariably when out on such expeditions; but I found that unless one was feeling very well, it generally brought on most painful indigestion. The Sheikh now brought us the corn, and also a large dish of asida, which was divided amongst the men; and whilst they were having their meal, I asked the officers to share with me a tin of preserved meat, which they admitted was much superior to the asida and dukhn. I then called up my clerk, and told him to write out a receipt for the corn, which he was to give the Sheikh, to be his voucher for the remission of taxation equivalent to the value of the dukhn supplied. But the good man, when he understood my orders, refused to accept the receipt, adding that it was not only his duty to give the corn, but that the rights of hospitality demanded it. I told him, however, that I was well aware the natives of Darfur were most generous; but to impose the feeding of two hundred men on him quite exceeded the bounds of hospitality, and that it was only just he should receive payment. He at length agreed, and this conversation appeared to give him confidence; for he admitted that if this principle were always carried out, the natives would greatly appreciate it; but, unfortunately, it was the usual custom for troops arriving at a village to enter the houses, and take anything and everything they wanted, with the result that the inhabitants dreaded their approach, and at once tried to hide all they had. I thanked the Sheikh for telling me this, and promised I would do all I could to rectify the evil. We moved on again at three o'clock, loaded with the blessings of this good man and his people, and after a quick march of four hours halted in a small plantation of trees. Our route had led us across a country overgrown with dense bush, and intersected by innumerable dry gullies; and here and there we passed a village buried amongst the trees. From our halting-place I sent off two horsemen to Bir Gowi to announce our approach; and, after a refreshing rest of five hours under the wild fig-trees and tamarisks, we started off again, and marched almost uninterruptedly till noon the following day. We once or twice had to ask for corn, and always had the same difficulty in getting the Sheikhs to accept the receipt; but as I insisted, they generally ended by gladly taking it. I was anxious, if possible, to reach Bir Gowi before dark, so pushed on; we passed on the way a large plantation of deleb palms, and had to be careful not to be struck by the heavy fruit, which, weighing from two to three pounds, and falling from a height of some forty feet, was a positive danger. Woe to the unfortunate traveller who thoughtlessly halts for the night in one of these palm-groves! The natives, however, are very careful, and generally warn the unsuspecting of the risk of sleeping anywhere near these trees when bearing fruit.

At sunset we reached Bir Gowi, which was situated in the centre of a large clearing; and to reach the station we had to pass between the stumps of trees, which considerably impeded the march. It was surrounded by a square zariba, each side of which measured about one hundred and eighty paces, and consisted of a thorn barricade about twelve feet thick and six feet high; on the inside, the ground was raised to enable the men to fire over it from a platform, and the whole was surrounded by a ditch nine feet wide, and about nine feet deep.

The garrison, consisting of some hundred and twenty men armed with rifles, was drawn up outside, with their officers, ready to salute. I halted the men, and, riding forward, saluted the garrison, and was welcomed by the vigorous beating of the nahas (copper war-drums) and noggaras (other drums, made from the hollow trunk of a tree, covered on both sides with skin), the blowing of bugles and antelope horns, and the rattling of dry skins filled with pebbles,—a very effective, but by no means melodious band, diversified by the occasional crack of rifles fired off in a promiscuous manner, and which could not exactly be compared to a feu de joie, though no doubt the intention was the same. After inspecting the garrison, I ordered my men to file into the fort. The interior of the zariba was filled with straw huts, those of the chiefs being surrounded by high straw enclosures; but there was sufficient room for us all, and I was given a good-sized hut, standing in almost the only open place visible.

The object of the Bir Gowi military post was to protect the surrounding villages from raids; but the strength of the garrison to take the offensive was insufficient, and it would probably have been of little use. Dismounting from my horse, I sat on an angareb, and sent for Ahmed Katong and Gabralla to discuss the situation, and obtain the latest news about Harun's movements. Katong soon arrived, hobbling along on a crutch. He belonged to the Fung tribe, his forefathers having been captured by the Furs, after the conquest of Kordofan, and he had been made Hakem Khot, or chief of the district; his duty being to collect taxes, and at the same time to be responsible for the security of the country. In reply to my question as to how he had become lame, he told me that some years before he had been struck in the knee by a bullet. "Since that date," said Ahmed, "I always have a saddled horse near me. In the zariba, of course, it does not matter; but when travelling in these unsettled times, and when one is liable to be attacked at any moment, I lie down to sleep holding the bridle in my hand. Those with good legs can easily get away in case of danger; but with a stump like mine I cannot run, so I have taught myself to mount my horse quickly, with one leg."

I now begged them to give me the latest news about Harun. "Gabralla," said Ahmed, "sent out spies, who returned this afternoon, and who state that Harun has collected his men, but has not yet come down from the mountains;" and Gabralla, chiming in, said, "Yes, I did so, and have sent off others to watch his movements; if he comes here I don't think we shall run away now."

I could not help scanning this man with some curiosity. He was tall, and of the usual black complexion of the Fur tribe; he possessed also—which is very unusual—a well-shaped aquiline nose and a small mouth; he had a slight beard, was about forty years of age, and had a very pleasant expression. Yet this was the villain who had betrayed the father of his own beautiful wife! Was I to trust him, or not? He had certainly every inducement to be loyal, for should he fall into the hands of Harun, he would doubtless pay with his life for the death of his uncle and his father-in-law.

Naturally I gave him no occasion to discover my thoughts, and we chatted about former times, agreeing they were very different from the present; he then began to talk of himself, and told me how he was employed as a spy to bring the news of Harun's movements to Dara, and thence to El Fasher. He had between thirty and forty of his old slaves, who were armed, and whose duty it was to guard and serve him, whilst the older male servants and female slaves had to work in the fields and keep the household supplied with corn. Being in the pay of the Government, he was quite content, but told me that he wanted to do something which would qualify him for the rank of Bey. "Zogal, who is a friend of mine," he said, "is a Bey."

By this time I was so thoroughly tired and sleepy after my long journey, followed by the two days' hard marching, that I went to bed; but my head ached, and the incessant beating of drums in my honour kept me awake all night, and the following morning I felt really unwell. Ahmed Katong came to see me, and I told him I had a bad headache. "We can easily cure that," said Ahmed, cheerfully. "I have a man here who can stop headaches at once; he is a much better man than the doctor at Dara,—indeed there is no doctor at Dara; he is really only an apothecary, with the courtesy title of doctor."

"All right," said I, "but how is he going to cure me?" "Oh! it is very simple," he answered; "he places both his hands on your head, and repeats something; then you get perfectly well,—in fact, better than you were before." "Then let him come at once," I cried. I was young and ignorant in those days, and I thought that possibly one of these wandering Arabs might have visited Europe and learned something of the magnetic cure, and had given up the pleasures of life in order to make himself useful to mankind. I confess to feeling a little mistrustful when I thought of what Ahmed had said; but then, after all, doctors in Europe speak, so why should not he? In a few minutes Ahmed ushered into my presence a tall dark man with a white beard, who appeared to be a native of Bornu, and introduced him as "the doctor who will cure your headache." Without a moment's hesitation, the doctor placed his hand on my head, pressed my temples with his thumb and forefinger, and, muttering a few words I could not understand, to my horror, spat in my face. In a moment I had jumped up and knocked him down; but Ahmed, who was standing by, leaning on his crutch, begged me not to take it in this way. "It was not really meant for rudeness," he said; "it is merely a part of the cure, and will do you much good." But the poor doctor, whose confidence had been somewhat shaken, and was still standing at a distance, muttered, "Headache is the work of the devil, and I must drive it out; several passages from the Kuran and the sayings of holy men direct that it should be chased away by spitting, and thus his evil work in your head will cease!" In spite of my annoyance, I could not help laughing. "So I am supposed to be possessed of a devil," I said; "I trust he was only a little one, and that you have really driven him out." I did not, however, let him make a second experiment, and, giving him a dollar as compensation, I bade him good-bye, and he left me, calling down the blessings of Heaven on my poor head, which was still aching sadly.