He obtained Sheikh Koreishi's permission to return to Abba, where he received visitors from all parts, who sought the blessing of this holy man; and common people now crowded to the island, seeing in him a sympathetic leader who was bold enough to openly defy his superiors. He received quantities of gifts, and these he openly distributed amongst the poor, thus earning the epithet of "Zahed" (the renouncer, or one who has renounced the good things of this life). He then made a journey through Kordofan, where the towns and villages abound with religious fikis of the most ignorant and superstitious description. Amongst them he had an enormous success. He also wrote a pamphlet, which he distributed amongst his specially trusted adherents, summoning them as true believers to do all in their power to purify the religion, which was becoming debased and insulted by the corruption of the Government and the utter disregard of the officials for the tenets of the true faith.
A few months later the Sheikh el Koreishi died, and Mohammed Ahmed and his disciples lost no time in going at once to Mesallamia, where they erected a tomb, or dome, to his memory.
It was while here that a certain Abdullahi bin Mohammed, of the Taaisha section of the Baggara (cattle-owning) tribe of southwestern Darfur, presented himself to Mohammed Ahmed and sought permission to be admitted into the Sammania Tarika; his request was granted, and Abdullahi swore eternal fidelity to his new master. This man was the eldest of the four sons of Mohammed et Taki, of the Juberat division of the Taaisha tribe, which in its turn was descended from the "Aulad um Sura." His three other brothers were Yakub, Yusef, and Sammani; he also had a sister named Fatma. The father was on bad terms with his relatives, and determined to proceed on pilgrimage with his whole family to Mecca, where he resolved to settle, and end his days in close proximity to the birthplace of his Prophet. Those who knew Et Taki described him as a good man, scrupulous in his attendance to his religious duties, and capable of curing diseases and insanity by means of heggabs, or religious charms; he was also a teacher of the Kuran. Of his sons, Abdullahi and Yusef were the most unmanageable, and the father had the greatest difficulty in making them learn by heart even the few passages from the Kuran necessary for the ordinary prayers. Yakub and Sammani, on the other hand, had more of their father's quiet disposition, and, having learnt their verses and commentaries, were able to help him in his religious duties.
The family had, it appears, joined the Furs in combating Zubeir's entry to Darfur, and the latter relates how, during the fight at Shakka, he took Abdullahi prisoner, and was about to have him shot, when some of the Ulema craved pardon for him, which he granted. Abdullahi, in his gratitude, subsequently sought out Zubeir secretly, and announced to him that he had had a dream, in which it had been shown to him that he was the expected Mahdi, and that he (Abdullahi) was to be one of his faithful followers. "I told him," relates Zubeir, "that I was not the Mahdi; but that when I became aware of the wickedness of the Arabs, and how they blocked the roads, I came to open them and establish trade."
Et Taki and the family quitted their home when Zubeir had concluded peace, and, travelling via Kalaka to Shakka, they had remained there two years, and had proceeded thence via Dar Homr and El Obeid to Dar Gimr, where they remained the guests of the head-Sheikh for some months, and where Et Taki died, and was buried by the head-Sheikh, Asaker Abu Kalam, at Sherkéla. Before his death he urged on his eldest son, Abdullahi to take refuge with some religious Sheikh on the Nile, then immigrate to Mecca, and never return again to their country.
Leaving his brothers and sister under the care of Sheikh Asaker Abu Kalam, in accordance with the dying wishes of his father, Abdullahi set out for the Nile valley; and when making inquiries along the road, he heard of the dissension between Mohammed Ahmed and his Sheikh, Mohammed Sherif, and he resolved to go to the former and ask him to allow him to join the order. "It was a very troublesome journey," said Abdullahi bin Sayed Mohammed, Khalifat el Mahdi (his full name), to me some years later, when he first became ruler of the Sudan; for at that time he used to talk openly to me, and had not learnt to mistrust me, as he did latterly. In those days, as I shall subsequently relate, he would send for me and chat with me alone by the hour, seated on his beautifully made angareb, over which a palm-mat was spread, whilst I sat beside him on the ground, with my legs tucked up under me. "Yes, indeed, it was a very troublesome journey," he repeated. "At that time my entire property consisted of one donkey, and he had a gall on his back, so that I could not ride him; but I made him carry my water-skin and a bag of corn, over which I spread my rough cotton garment, and drove him along in front of me. At that time I wore the wide cotton shirt, like the rest of my tribe. You remember it, do you not, Abdel Kader? For you have only recently come from my beautiful country [he always used to call me "Abdel Kader," unless there happened to be present another man of the same name, when he would call me "Abdel Kader Saladin," i. e., Slatin]. My clothes and my dialect at once marked me out as a stranger wherever I went; and when I crossed the Nile, I was frequently greeted with 'What do you want? Go back to your country; there is nothing to steal here.' The Nile people do not think well of us," he continued, "because the merchants going west to Zubeir, in Bahr el Ghazal and to our countries, were frequently maltreated by the Arabs; and when I asked them where the Mahdi, who was known as Mohammed Ahmed, lived, they gazed at me incredulously, saying, 'What are you going to him for? He would not soil his lips by even mentioning the name of your race.' Every one, however, did not treat me in this way; some would take pity on me and direct me. Once, when passing through a village, the people wanted to take my donkey away, saying that it had been stolen from them the year before; and they would have succeeded, had not an elderly and God-fearing man interposed and allowed me to pursue my way. I was continually mocked and hooted at during my long journey; and had not a few people out of sheer pity occasionally given me some food, I must have starved. At length I reached Mesallamia, and here I found the Mahdi busily engaged in building the tomb of the late Sheikh el Koreishi. On seeing him I entirely forgot all the troubles I had suffered on my journey, and was content to simply look at him and listen to his teaching. For several hours I was too timid to dare to speak to him; but at length I plucked up courage, and in a few words told him my story, and about the sad condition of my brothers and sister, and I begged him, for the sake of God and His Prophet, to allow me to become one of his disciples. He did so, and gave me his hand, which I kissed most fervently, and I swore entire submission to him as long as I lived. This oath I kept most scrupulously until the angel of death overtook him; and some day he will overtake us, and therefore we should ever be ready to meet him."
Pausing for a moment, he gazed at me, and I at once said, "Yes, indeed, sire, you have faithfully kept your promise; and the Lord God Almighty has rewarded you; for you, who at one time were despised and rejected, have now become absolute lord and sovereign of this land. Those who insulted you at that time should indeed be thankful that you have not wreaked vengeance on their heads. A man capable of such restraint must indeed be the successor of the Prophet." Abdullahi, I knew, loved praise and flattery, and on this occasion I perhaps almost exceeded the limits; but I was most anxious that he should continue to tell me his story.
"When I had taken the oath," continued Abdullahi, "the Mahdi called one of his disciples, named Ali, and said to him, 'You are brethren from this day; give each other your mutual support, trust in God, and do you, Abdullahi, obey the orders of your brother.' Ali was very good to me; he was as poor as myself, but when the Mahdi sent him any food he always shared it fairly with me. During the day we carried bricks required for building the tomb, and at night we slept side by side. In a month the dome was complete. At this time the Mahdi received hundreds of visitors, and had little time to look at or think of me; still, I knew that I had found a place in his heart, and he appointed me one of his flag-bearers.[4] When we left Mesallamia, people flocked around us to gaze at the Mahdi, whom they at that time called only Mohammed Ahmed, and listen to his teachings and seek his blessing.
"It was in this way that we marched to the Island of Abba. My sandals were worn out, and I had to give my donkey to a Mukaddum [superior disciple] to carry a sick man; but at length we reached the Mahdi's house, and now I fell very ill with dysentery. My brother Ali took me to his little straw hut, which was scarcely large enough to hold two people, looked after my food, and, as I was in bed, he used to fetch water from the river to enable me to perform my 'wadu' [religious ablution].
"One evening he went to fetch the water, but did not return; and the next day I was told that he had been attacked and killed by a crocodile,—Allah yerhamu! Allah yeghfurlu! [May God be merciful, may God forgive him his sins!]" I repeated these words after the Khalifa, adding, "Sire, how great is your patience! and therefore has God exalted you. Now may I ask you if, during your illness, the Mahdi paid any attention to you?" "No," replied Khalifa Abdullahi, "the Mahdi wished to try me. It was not till after Ali's death, and when I lay helpless in the hut, that he was told I was ill. One evening he came to see me. I was too weak to get up, so he sat beside me, and gave me some warm medida and may He strengthen you to lead the true believers into the right path," said I; and I quitted his presence with the usual salute.