With Kitchener in the Soudan: A Story of Atbara and Omdurman

by G. A. Henty

Zaki had, throughout the day, kept close to Gregory, ready to hold his horse when he dismounted; but, quick-footed as he was, he was left behind when his master galloped across to Macdonald. He was up, however, in the course of a minute or two, and Gregory was glad to see him, for the horse was kicking and plunging at the roar of the approaching enemy; and was almost maddened when to this was added the crash of the batteries and musketry.

"Put my blanket round his head, Zaki," Gregory said, when the black ran up. "Wrap it round so that he cannot see. Hold the bridle with one hand, and stroke him with the other, and keep on talking to him; he knows your voice. I don't want to dismount if I can help it, for with my field glasses I see everything that is taking place, and I will tell you how matters are going."

For the moment, it seemed as if the surging crowd streaming down must carry all before it; but the steadiness with which the 9th Soudanese moved into their place on the flank of the line, and the other regiments remained, as if on parade, soon reassured him. The terrible slaughter that was taking place in the ranks of the Dervishes soon showed that, in that quarter at least, there was no fear of things going wrong; but he could not but look anxiously towards the great mass of men approaching from the north.

It was a matter of minutes. Would the present attack be repulsed in time for the position to be changed, to meet the coming storm? Occasionally, Gregory looked back to see if reinforcements were coming. Wauchope's brigade was visible over the tops of the scattered bushes. The movements of the line showed that they were coming on at the double, but they were farther away than Ed Din's host, and the latter were running like deer.

He felt a deep sense of relief when the 9th Soudanese were thrown back, performing the movement as quietly and steadily as if on a drill ground; and two batteries of artillery galloped across to their support. He had hardly expected such calm courage from the black battalion. As to the bravery of the Soudanese troops, there was no question. They were of the same blood and race as their foes, and had shown how bravely they could fight in many a previous battle; but he was not prepared for the steady way in which they worked, under such novel circumstances; and although they, too, must have known that every moment was of consequence, they moved without haste or hurry into the new position, scarcely glancing at the torrent which was rushing on towards them.

Not less steadily and quietly did the 11th, considered to be the crack regiment of the brigade, swing round; and as calmly and firmly did the Egyptian battalion--composed of the peasants who, but twenty years before, had been considered among the most cowardly of people, a host of whom would have fled before a dozen of the dreaded Dervishes--march into the gap between the two black regiments, and manfully hold their own.

And yet, he could not but feel sorry for the valiant savages who, under so awful a fire, still pressed forward to certain death; their numbers withering away at every step, until they dwindled to nothing, only to be replaced by a fresh band, which darted forward to meet a similar fate; and yet, when he remembered the wholesale slaughter at Metemmeh, the annihilation of countless villages and of their inhabitants, and, above all, the absolute destruction of the army of Hicks Pasha, the capture of Khartoum, the murder of Gordon, and the reduction to a state of slavery of all the peaceful tribes of the Soudan, he could not but feel that the annihilation of these human tigers, and the wiping out of their false creed, was a necessity.

When the last shot was fired, he dismounted and leant against his horse, completely unnerved by the tremendous excitement that had been compressed into the space of half an hour. Zaki was in ecstasy at the victory. The ruthless massacre of so many of his tribesmen, the ruin of his native village, and the murder of his relations was avenged, at last. The reign of the Dervishes was over. Henceforth men could till their fields in peace. It was possible that, even yet, he might find his mother and sisters still alive, in the city but a few miles away, living in wretched existence as slaves of their captors.

Tears of joy streamed down his cheeks. He would have liked to help to revenge the wrongs of his tribe, but his master needed him; and moreover, there was no place for an untrained man in the ranks of the Soudanese regiments. They were doing their work better than he could. Still, it was the one bitter drop in his intense joy, that he had not been able to aid in the conflict.

He expressed this to Gregory.