The Dash for Khartoum: A Tale of the Nile Expedition

by G. A. Henty

As no further attention was paid to him he returned to the outhouse, took off his karkee tunic, and tearing some strips from it, wetted them and laid them on his shoulder. Presently the door was closed, and he heard a heap of brushwood thrown against it, an effectual way of preventing an attempt to escape, for as the door opened outwards the slightest movement would cause a rustling of the bushes and arouse the Arabs who were sleeping in the court-yard. There was no window. Edgar, seeing that escape was out of the question, laid himself down and tried to sleep, but the pain of his arm was so great that it was some hours before he succeeded in doing so. The next morning he was allowed to go out into the yard, and for some time no attention was paid to him. Then a considerable hubbub was heard in the town, with much shouting and yelling. An Arab ran in at the gate with some news. Edgar could not understand his hurried words, but the effect was evident. The men seized their arms, and then at the sheik's order Edgar was again securely bound and fastened in the outhouse.

In the course of an hour he heard firing, first dropping shots and then two or three sharp volleys, and knew that the British were advancing against the town, and that the Arabs had gone out to skirmish with them. Then there was a long pause, and he heard the sound of the English field-pieces. He listened for musketry, but in vain.

"It is only a reconnaissance," he said to himself. "Those little guns would not batter down the mud walls round the town without an expense of ammunition that could not be afforded. No doubt the troops could take it by storm, but surely the general would not risk the heavy loss they would suffer before they got in, especially as the place would be of no use to them when they took it, and must fall as a matter of course when the rest of the force arrives."

Such being his opinion, he was but little disappointed when the firing ceased, and he knew by the triumphant yells of the Arabs that the British force were retiring. In a short time he heard a clamour of voices in the court-yard, and he was presently unbound and released.

"The Kaffirs did not dare to attack the place," the Arab said exultantly. "They have gone back to their camp. In a day or two there will be forces here from Khartoum and Berber, and then we will destroy or make slaves of them all."

Four days later there was a great firing of muskets and triumphant yelling in the streets. Edgar felt very anxious, fearing that the expected reinforcements had arrived, and that a tremendous attack was about to be made upon the camp. He did not believe that it had already taken place, for he felt confident that every pain had been taken to strengthen the position, and that in whatever numbers the assault might be made it would be repulsed. Presently, however, the sheik himself deigned to tell him the cause of the rejoicing.

"There is news from Khartoum," he said. "The city has been taken, and the Englishman Gordon and all his followers have been killed. The news is certain. It has been brought down to us by tribesmen on both sides of the river. I told you that the Mahdi was irresistible."

The blow was a terrible one to Edgar. In the first place it was grievous to think that the expedition had been made in vain, and that, owing to those in authority at home delaying for months before making up their minds to rescue Gordon, it had failed in its object, and that the noblest of Englishmen had been left to die, unaided by those who had sent him out. He thought of the intense disappointment that would be felt by the troops, of the grief that there would be in England when the news was known, and then he wondered what would be done next. It was evident to him at once that his own position was altogether changed. He had before felt confident that unless his captors moved away from the town before the arrival of the main body of the expedition he should be rescued, but now it seemed altogether uncertain whether the expedition would come at all.

So long as Gordon was alive England was bound to make every effort to rescue him; but now that he and his companions were dead, and Khartoum had fallen, she might not feel herself called upon to attempt the reconquest of the Soudan. It was probable, however, that this would be the best, and in the end the cheapest way out of the difficulty. Here was a force that had at an enormous expense been brought up almost to within striking distance of Khartoum, and which could be relied upon to make its way thither to defeat the armies of the Mahdi, and to recapture Khartoum without any very great difficulty. The provisions and stores had all been purchased and brought up, and scarce any outlay additional to that already incurred would be entailed by the operation.

Upon the other hand, to retire now would be to leave the whole Soudan in the hands of the Mahdi and his fanatics. It would mean the destruction of the settled government established by the Egyptians, and it would expose Egypt to incessant invasions, which we should be bound to repel. Common sense, humanity, and even economy seemed to favour the advance of the force to Khartoum. The British people, roused to anger by the fate of Gordon, would probably call loudly for the vindication of the national honour, and for an act of retribution on the murderers of Gordon.