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

by G. A. Henty

"You have had your share in the fight, Zaki, just as I have had. I have not fired a shot, but I have been in the battle, and run its risks, and so have you. Each of us has done his duty, and we can say, for the rest of our lives, that we have borne our share in the great battle that has smashed up the power of the Khalifa, and the rule of the Dervishes."

[Chapter 15]: Khartoum.

There was no pause or rest for the troops who had been fighting, for so many hours, in the heat of the African sun. It was all important to occupy Omdurman before the remnants of the Khalifa's army reached it; and as it was known that the Khalifa himself had returned there, it was hoped that he might be captured.

It was ten o'clock when Macdonald's brigade fired their last shot. In half an hour, the troops went forward again. The field presented a terrible appearance, being thickly dotted with dead, from the Surgham Hill across the plain; and round, by the Kerreri Hills, to the spot where Macdonald's brigade had made their stand. There were comparatively few wounded; for, wiry and hardy as they were, the wounded Dervishes, unless mortally hit, were for the most part able to crawl or walk away; which they had done unmolested, for on each occasion after the bugle sounded cease firing, not a shot was fired at them. But of dead there were fully ten thousand, scattered more or less thickly over the plain.

From the position in which they were placed, the Egyptian troops, as they marched south, passed the spot where the Khalifa's flag was still flying, as it had been left after its last defenders had fallen. Slatin, who was with the army, rode over the plain at the Sirdar's request, to ascertain if any of the Dervish leaders were among the fallen. He recognized many, but the Khalifa, his son Ed Din, and Osman Digna were not among them. The last-named had ever been chary of exposing himself, and had probably, as was his custom, viewed the battle from a safe distance. But round the flag were the Khalifa's brother, Yacoub, and ten or twelve of the leading emirs.

On our side, the loss had been comparatively light. Our total number of casualties, including the wounded, was five hundred and twenty-four; towards which Macdonald's brigade contributed one hundred and twenty-eight. Marching steadily on, the force halted in the outlying suburb of Omdurman, at midday, to obtain much needed food and water. As soon as the cavalry had watered their horses, they were sent round to the south of the town to cut off fugitives, and some of the gunboats moved up to their support.

Deputations of the townsfolk, Greeks and natives, came out and offered to surrender. They said that the Khalifa was in his house, and that he had about a thousand of his bodyguard with him, but that they could not offer any successful resistance. The town was full of fugitive Dervishes; many thousands of them were there--among them a great number of wounded.

At half past four the Sirdar, with his staff, entered the town; accompanied by Maxwell's Egyptian brigade. Only a few shots were fired. The Dervish courage was broken. It was to the followers of the Prophet, and not to the infidels, that the plains of Kerreri had proved fatal. It was their bodies, and not those of the white soldiers, that were strewn there so thickly. The promise of the Khalifa had been falsified, the tomb of the Mahdi was crumbling into ruins, the bravest of their troops had fallen--what more was there to be done?

As Slatin Pasha rode in at the head of the troops, he was instantly recognized by the people, among whom, for years, he had been a prisoner; and on his assurances that mercy would be shown to all, if there was no resistance, numbers of the Dervishes came out from their houses and huts, and laid down their arms.

The women flocked out into the streets, uttering their long and quavering cries of welcome. To them the entry of the British was a relief from a living death, as almost all were captives taken in war, or in the Dervish raids upon quiet villages. They could scarce even yet believe that they were free--that their tyrants were slain or fugitives.