Scarcely two hours had elapsed since Ishak had left, when, through my field-glasses I saw the enemy advancing. I at once sounded the "alarm," and every one went to his post. The attack came from the northwest, where there was a small wood which gave considerable cover. In the centre of our zariba was a mound, on the top of which I placed an old bench found in one of Madibbo's huts, and which an Egyptian had turned into a chair. Seated in this position, I obtained a good view of the surrounding country, as well as of all that was going on in the zariba. The enemy now advanced within rifle-range, and the bullets began to whistle about our ears. Getting up from the chair to give some order and have a better view, a shot whizzed past and struck the back of the chair in which I had just been sitting, and shivered it to pieces. After this, I thought it advisable to take up a less-exposed position. The enemy's fire now became very hot, but the men were well protected in the trenches, and our loss was trifling. The horses and camels, however, suffered severely; and feeling that if kept huddled up in the zariba we might lose them all, I selected fifty men and, making a sortie from the southern entrance, we turned west, and, opening suddenly on the enemy's flank, inflicted considerable loss on him by a murderous cross-fire, eventually driving him from the position. However, we did not secure this success without paying for it. As far as I can recollect, we lost twelve killed, including Fadlalla, and the Greek Alexander was amongst the wounded.
Discussing the situation with my officers, it was decided that if the enemy attacked us the following day and we succeeded in repulsing him, we should be prepared to act offensively. We had some suspicion, too, that Sheikh Abu Salama was inclined to revolt; his conduct had undoubtedly altered considerably of late.
The day's experience had the effect of making the men deepen their trenches and heighten their breastworks, thus affording better protection to themselves and the animals. By the evening, thoroughly tired out, most of them had dropped off to sleep, and we anticipated a quiet night. But at about eleven o'clock we were startled by a brisk rifle-fire. Fortunately it was a very dark night, and the fire was ill-directed. So I ordered the men not to reply, and in consequence it slackened, and eventually ceased altogether.
Summoning Sheikh Afifi, I now asked him to send out some of his men to discover Madibbo's position, promising them they would be well rewarded if they brought back reliable information. In about two hours they returned, and reported that Madibbo was in his village with his Bazingers, while the Arabs were encamped to the south and west of it. They were in considerable force, but had taken no precautions for defence, and our spies, who had crept up quite close to their camp-fires, had overheard them laughing and joking at our not having replied to their fire, saying we must have been too frightened to do so.
Waiting for half an hour, I called up seventy men, and told them, before the officers, I wanted them to surprise Madibbo's camp; that if we fought an action in the open against superior numbers, we should probably lose heavily; but we had now ascertained the Arabs were quite unprepared, and a sudden night attack might completely demoralise them, and give us a chance of returning to Dara for reinforcements. The plan was thoroughly approved, and all the officers at once volunteered to join; but this I could not permit. So, leaving behind two officers, four buglers, and seventy men, I quitted the zariba, accompanied by Afifi, who refused to leave me. Suspecting that possibly some of Abu Salama's people might get out and betray us, I gave the officers who remained behind strict injunctions that during our absence no one should leave the zariba, and that a most careful lookout should be kept; and advancing cautiously, guided by the spies, in the space of about an hour we found ourselves close to the enemy's camp. Our spies proved thoroughly trusty; and, besides, I had previously travelled in these districts, and knew the country well. Dividing up, therefore, into two parties, I placed one under the command of a very brave officer named Mohammed Agha Suleiman, a native of Bornu, and leading the other party myself, we crept up to within six or seven hundred yards of the unsuspecting foe, when I ordered the bugler to sound "Commence firing." The confusion in the enemy's camp was now indescribable. Madibbo's Bazingers, leaving their arms, fled. The horses, terrified by this sudden commotion in the dead of night, became restive, broke their ropes, and bolted in all directions, chased by the Arabs. In a few minutes every one of Madibbo's huts was deserted, and in the distance could be heard the sounds of the terrified crowds, fleeing from our little band of seventy men. We had been completely successful, and it took Madibbo some days before he could collect his men again. I burnt his village, and the blazing flames, shooting to the sky, lighted up the deserted camp. Only two of my men had been wounded by thrown spears. We captured a large number of saddles, which I ordered to be thrown into the flames, as well as a quantity of old guns and matchlocks; but we kept the forty Remington rifles taken, and now marched back to the zariba, where we had a most enthusiastic welcome from the others, who had been awaiting our return with great anxiety.
I gave the order to move at sunrise the next morning. The entire neighbourhood was deserted, and during our five hours' march to Bir Delwei we met no one. Here, however, we were caught up by some Rizighat horsemen, who had followed us with the evident intention of finding out if we were really quitting the district. Afifi, catching sight of them, was after them in a moment, and, severely wounding Madibbo's cousin, Isa Feisal, he captured his horse. We now continued to march forward as rapidly as possible, hoping soon to meet the reinforcements which should have started by this time from Dara for the relief of Mansur Helmi. At midnight we reached Kelekle, where I resolved to give the exhausted men a good rest. Here, under the pretext of telling his tribe to drive their cattle out of the Rizighat districts towards the north, Sheikh Abu Salama left us; but as he did not return the next morning, and as it was reported by some men I had sent out after him that he and his family, taking all their property with them, had left for the south, I had no doubt he had gone to join the rebels. Having still no news from Dara, I did not deem it advisable to wait longer, so continued my march north, and reached that town by noon the following day. I found the reinforcements and ammunition all ready to leave, and as the men I had brought back were tired, I determined to change them also, and return with a completely fresh force to help Mansur Helmi; but to my surprise, at daybreak the next morning, I received a letter from Ismail Wad Barnu, saying that he and Mansur were on their way to Dara, and would arrive the following day. This was to me most unsatisfactory news, for it meant that my difficulties in re-occupying Shakka would be considerably increased. The next morning they arrived, accompanied by a few slaves, who were ready to drop down with fatigue. Calling up Mansur before a council of officers, I asked him officially, in writing, why he quitted his post without orders, and he replied that he was too tired to answer. I then called on Ismail Wad Barnu for a full explanation, and he stated as follows: "Having despatched the messenger to you with the news of our disaster, we hourly expected you to arrive. When the messenger returned, reporting that you were retiring on Dara for reinforcements, and that Madibbo was on the point of attacking you, we gave way to despair. Our corn was finished, and we had no means of procuring any more supplies. We therefore made up our minds to take to flight." "But," said I, "where are the camels carrying ammunition and rockets? and where are all the merchants and their families who came to you for protection? There were some hundreds of you; and now you are only fifteen." "We loaded the ammunition and rockets on the camels," replied Mansur, nervously, "and they and the merchants started the same time as we did; but we got separated on the march." "What!" said I, in a tone of wonder, "how could heavily laden camels become separated from horsemen? Only in one way: they move slowly, and you have deserted them in your terror. How long did you take to come here?" By this time Mansur had worked himself into such a state of nervous excitement that he had become incoherent. I therefore again called on Wad Barnu to complete this painful narrative. "We left the zariba three days ago," said he. "Three days!" I said. "And yet you say that the camels separated from you. It is a seven days' march between Murrai and Dara. You are a civil official, Ismail, and joined this expedition by my orders. You need not be afraid. Tell me now, truthfully, why you left the others?" "Master," said Ismail, who had by this time regained confidence, "when we heard that you were waiting for reinforcements from Dara, we held a consultation, and decided that, as we had only a small quantity of supplies left, we should abandon the position and come here. Mansur Effendi, being our chief, gave the order to march three hours before sunset. We loaded up the camels, and, with the merchants, their wives and children, all left the zariba together. The marching of so many of us made a great noise; and fearing that the enemy would hear it, Mansur called me up, and suggested that we should go on ahead, and that Ali Agha Guma, who was in command of the fifty men escorting the ammunition, should follow on and catch us up. At dawn the next morning we halted for some time, and at length Abder Rasul Agha arrived, reporting that he too had got separated from the caravan during the night. Master, where is the heart without fear? As the merciful and almighty God had delivered us, so we believed He would deliver the others; therefore we hurried on. Master, make allowance for us. Remember that we lost relatives and slaves in the battle, and that I am married and the father of children!"
Mansur listened to this confession in silence. I frequently called upon him to say anything which would justify his conduct; but his only excuse was that the ammunition column did not arrive at the appointed rendezvous, and that as he himself had so few men, he did not think it wise to go in search of them, and had therefore continued his march. I now directed the senior officer present to take Mansur's sword from him, to keep him in close arrest at the headquarter guard, and to take down in writing a full deposition of what had occurred.
Meanwhile I sent off spies in all directions to discover the whereabouts of the column, and for the moment abandoned all idea of an expedition to Shakka. Seven days later I received the joyful news that the column had safely arrived at Toweisha with almost all the merchants and their families, and as, up to the present, no disturbances had taken place in that district, the latter had asked permission to remain there. Three days afterwards the column was reported to be within an hour's march of Dara. I therefore rode out at the head of the whole garrison to meet them, and marched them in with all honours. On their arrival they were publicly entertained, and I gave all the non-commissioned officers a step, and promoted fifteen of them, who were specially recommended by Ali Agha Guma, to the rank of officer. Ali Agha now related the following. "In accordance with Mansur Effendi's orders, we loaded up the camels and started; the merchants, with their women and children, who had not been informed, now made a great commotion, and insisted on coming with us; the poor people well knew that if they remained behind they could expect no mercy from the Arabs. Mansur Effendi, alarmed at the noise, and fearing that the enemy might come down on us, was chiefly concerned about the safety of his own person, and therefore started off, directing me to catch him up the following morning. Now, how was it possible for me in a bushy, trackless region, with heavily laden camels, to catch up a man flying on a horse? I hurriedly collected the soldiers and the merchants, and told them that I proposed to march towards Goz el Maalia, and in this roundabout way, please God, we should avoid the enemy and reach home safely. I knew that the country round Goz el Maalia was open, and that if attacked we should be able to defend ourselves better than in the enclosed country through which we were now marching. I knew that we were quite strong enough to force our way through the Maalia tribe, and therefore, repeating the 'Fatha' [the Moslem creed] and asking the Almighty to protect us, we marched in a northeasterly direction, camels and women in the centre. Thank God, the darkness of the night helped us to pass through the enemy's country unobserved, and by sunrise we had reached the southwestern boundary of the Maalia country. Here we made a short halt, but did not dare to stay long. We made the merchants' wives act as camel-drivers, and those who were ill and the children we mounted on camel-back on the top of the ammunition-boxes; in this way we managed to have about one hundred men with rifles as escort. We had sufficient corn for three or four days, and instead of water we quenched our thirst with the juice of the water-melons, which grew in abundance. At noon we were attacked by some Rizighat horsemen who had been joined by some Maalia; but by God's help, who forsakes not those in distress and danger, we drove them off, killing a few horses and men. Although utterly exhausted, we did not dare to halt till sunset; and, surrounding ourselves with a light zariba, we passed a quiet night, and started off again at sunrise the next morning. The enemy, being joined by some revolted villagers, again attacked us; but God gave us strength and courage, and we drove them off, and at length, after eight days' hard marching, we reached Toweisha safe and sound. The merchants and their wives and children left us there full of gratitude, and we thank the merciful God who has brought us unhurt out of all these dangers."
"I also thank God," said I, "that you are safe; I was greatly concerned about you. But tell me how goes it at Toweisha? How is the chief of the district, Abo Bey el Bartawi?" "He himself seems loyal to Government," he replied, "but his people have begun to get disaffected, and sooner or later, if good news is not received from Kordofan, he will join the rebels; at present, however, the Om Shanga garrison keeps him quiet."
I now publicly thanked Ali Agha Guma for his valuable services and for his forethought and bravery, and ordered his promotion from second to first lieutenant, writing to Cairo for confirmation. This plucky officer was a native of the Tagalla mountains, and had been trained as a soldier in Cairo.