Abu Salama with his Bazingers and about fifty horsemen accompanied me as far as Dem Madibbo, which was this Sheikh's usual summer resort; but it was now completely deserted, with the exception of a few slaves, who ran away at our approach. I camped within about a mile of this place, and made a zariba, having resolved to remain here until I received news from Mansur Helmi. I had not long to wait. He had told me that there was no prospect of trouble with the Arabs, but that was when Madibbo was absent; he had now returned from a visit to the Mahdi in Jebel Gedir, laden with trophies and proofs of the success of the new prophet. He had been present when Yusef Pasha Shellali had been annihilated, and he brought with him quantities of arms, ammunition, horses, and female slaves, with which the Mahdi had presented him; he had also received from him a flag, which he had been told was accompanied by invisible angels, who would lead him to victory wherever he went. Besides this, he brought numbers of proclamations, which he distributed broadcast. His tribe had no longer the slightest doubt that the Government troops had been defeated, and he now summoned them to join in the Jehad. Obedient to his call, the Rizighat tribes to the northeast and southeast of Shakka flocked to the holy standard. But Egeil still stood aloof; he could not forgive his quarrel with his rival, and resolved to remain neutral.
In a few days Madibbo had collected a force sufficiently strong to attack Mansur. The latter had made a zariba at Murrai, about half a day's march from Shakka, and thither most of the merchants, with their wives and families, had fled for protection. Early one Friday morning Madibbo with his hosts approached the zariba, and Mansur, instead of waiting to be attacked, foolishly sent out Rashed Agha with one hundred and fifty regulars and two hundred of Ismail Wad Barnu's, Sultan Abakr's, and the merchants' Bazingers,—the whole under Abder Rasul Agha, who had just joined from Kalaka. He himself stayed behind in the zariba with the rest of the troops. Rashed Agha advanced boldly without any scouts to the place where Madibbo was supposed to be, and the latter, dividing his men into three sections, ordered them to conceal themselves in the depressions of the ground and in the thick grass. The luckless troops saw too late the trap that had been laid for them. On a given signal the enemy attacked them in flank; they had only time to fire one volley, and the Arabs were amongst them. A pitiless massacre ensued. Sultan Abakr and Abder Rasul alone escaped, through the fleetness of their horses, back to the zariba, and all the rest perished.
Mansur Helmi, terrified at this sudden disaster, now completely lost hope; but Wad Barnu and Abakr encouraged the troops not to despair, with the result that when the victorious Madibbo attacked the zariba he was driven off with considerable loss. A messenger despatched by Mansur under cover of darkness, brought me the sad news of the catastrophe. In his alarm he had greatly exaggerated Madibbo's strength, and, consulting two of my most trusted officers, we decided that the best plan would be to send one hundred and fifty men and the gun to Murrai, while the remainder of the troops should proceed to Salama Bey's settlement, whither reinforcements from Dara would be instantly despatched, and from which place an advance on Murrai could then be made.
Madibbo, who had originally a few hundred rifles, had now captured three hundred more, as well as a quantity of ammunition. I had at my disposal only one hundred and fifty regulars, and, despatching these with the gun and a further supply of ammunition loaded on twenty camels, to guard which I detailed forty men, I left myself with only one hundred and ten men. I wrote to Mansur, instructing him that on the arrival of these reinforcements he should strengthen his position at Murrai as much as possible, and await my arrival with the reinforcements ordered from Dara. I thought it very unlikely that, having had one unfortunate experience outside the zariba, he would again risk leaving it; besides, I knew he had sufficient corn for some days. In my letter to Zogal, ordering him to send more troops, I merely mentioned that Mansur had suffered a slight reverse, as I greatly feared the effect of this bad news in Dara; and I told him we were all well, and hoped to make a successful attack without delay.
While at my zariba at Deain, Sheikh Afifi Wad Ahmed of the Habbania, accompanied by Sheikhs Khamis Wad Nenya and Khudr Wad Girba, arrived with twenty horsemen, and gave me assurances of their loyalty to Government. The subsequent exploits of Afifi proved how true he was to his word. He told me frankly that the whole country was unsettled, and that almost all the tribes in the Kalaka neighbourhood wished to join the Mahdi.
Madibbo's prestige was no doubt greatly increased by his success against Mansur; constant contact for years with the Government had taught him a great deal and he was as capable as he was brave. Learning that I was encamped with only a small force at Deain, he very rightly decided to leave Mansur alone and turn on me.
One evening just before sunset, when my men were out collecting wood, we were suddenly attacked by Madibbo's horsemen, who were seen in hundreds some distance off galloping towards the zariba. Sheikh Afifi instantly saddled his horse, mounted, and, standing before me with poised spear, shouted, "Arifni zen! ana thor et tokash, abu galb min adem, ana bidaur el mot!" (You know me well! I am the pushing ox, the man who has a heart of bone. I seek death!) and with this he dashed out of the zariba, and, disappearing amongst the trees, returned in a few minutes, his spear dripping with blood, and leading after him a captured horse; the two other Sheikhs and their men also had a slight skirmish, losing one horse and capturing another. In a few moments we heard some rifle shots, and fearing that Madibbo's main body had arrived, I called the mounted Arabs into the zariba and prepared for defence. However, I soon ascertained that a small party only had come, and had taken up a position in a clump of trees; I therefore sent fifty men to drive them out, and they retired, leaving behind them three killed.
As it was now sunset, I summoned the Sheikhs and officers, and explained that it was impossible to retreat now, as the camels carrying the ammunition would probably get frightened if we were attacked in the dark, and we should run the risk of losing them. It was better, I said, to wait till daylight, when we should in all probability be attacked, and that in view of Madibbo's great superiority in numbers it was advisable for us to remain entirely on the defensive, and await a favourable opportunity to retire on Dara. "Under these circumstances," I said, "we shall not require the horses. Do you, therefore, Afifi, and your men leave us under cover of darkness, and return to your country, which you should be able to reach in safety. You will be more use to us there than cooped up in this zariba." After a short pause, Afifi replied, "My life is in God's hands, and man cannot escape his destiny. If it is God's will that I should die here to-morrow, so be it; but this might equally happen on my way back, for God is almighty. I think it a shame to leave you, and I prefer death to a life of shame. This is my opinion, and I have spoken it." No sooner had Afifi concluded, than the Habbania Arabs, in one voice, shouted that they were all of the same opinion; and such a noise did they make that I was obliged to tell them the enemy would probably hear them. Being quite unable to make them change their minds, I agreed that they should remain till the following day. I now ordered the ditch inside the zariba to be deepened, to give more cover from the bullets, and the men worked hard all night. At dawn the next morning, the outposts reported a man in the distance waving a white flag, and on giving orders that he should be allowed to approach, I found him to be Sheikh Ishak el Abd, of the Rizighat tribe, and I went outside the zariba to confer with him. Saluting, he handed me a letter from Madibbo, which my Arabic clerk now read to me; it was very long and bombastic, but not unfriendly in tone. He summoned me to submit, gave a full account of the defeat and death of Yusef Pasha Shellali, of which he himself had been an eye-witness, and then told me how he had been victorious over Mansur Helmi. He urged me, on his word as a former official and my friend, to believe in the truth of what he said, and then declared that, having seen the Mahdi with his own eyes, he had now not the smallest doubt that he was a man sent from God, and that all who resisted him must perish miserably.
Turning to my old friend Ishak, I laughingly asked him what he thought about it. "Master," said he, "I have eaten bread and salt with you, and therefore I will not deceive you: the whole country is in revolt, and every one says he is the true Mahdi. If you intend to submit to Madibbo, I can guarantee that you need have nothing to fear." "Never!" was my short reply. "I shall never lay down my arms to an Arab. Go to Madibbo, and tell him that battle must decide between us!" "Master," answered Ishak, "I will not deceive you; every word I have said is true. I, personally, shall not fight against you; but my tribe is no longer under control." "It is all the same to me," I replied, "whether you fight against me or not; one man alone cannot make much difference one way or the other." I then shook hands with him, and bade him good-bye. Pressing my hand, he said, "If one day I am forced to fight you, I will let you know," and, mounting his horse, he was in a few minutes out of sight.
Returning to the zariba, I now made all preparations for the impending struggle. Amongst the refugees with us was a Greek named Alexander, who had come to Shakka with two camel-loads of spirits and clothing, which he expected to sell at an enormous profit at Shakka: also a certain Ali Wad Fadlalla, with ten Bazingers, had joined us. He was a man I had long since discharged from the mamurship of Kalaka; but he expected in this way to re-establish himself in my good graces. Seeing the plight we were in, these two worthies did nothing but bemoan the ill luck which had brought them to my zariba.