The wild excitement and confusion prevailing on these occasions can readily be understood. The guns are all brought out, arms distributed amongst the Ansar, and the shouting and yelling is endless; crowds of horsemen dash hither and thither at a wild gallop, raising clouds of dust.

Horses and horsemanship are a great delight to the Sudanese; the best breeds are from Dongola and Abyssinia. At one time there were quantities in Darfur, and there was no difficulty in raising 4,000 of them, but since Mahdiism has fallen on the land the numbers have greatly decreased. Every horse-owner is entitled to half an ardeb of dhurra from the beit el mal.

The reviews which I have just described tend to keep alive enthusiasm, and also to intimidate those who are secretly opposed to the Khalifa, and whom the sight of such numbers of foot-and horsemen cannot fail to impress. The best riders are the Khalifa's own countrymen—the Baggaras—who are brought up on horses from their early childhood. The Khalifa has craftily arranged that all horses remain in the hands of the Baggaras. At first not many of this tribe joined the Mahdi, they preferred to remain in their own happy hunting-grounds, rearing horses, and living in unfettered liberty in their great plains and forests, and in consequence the Arabs nicknamed them "Arab el Shedera" (Arabs of the forests), but when the Khalifa succeeded to supreme power, he thought that his authority would be considerably strengthened by collecting his own countrymen around him.

After conquering Sultan Yusef, of Darfur, the Khalifa ordered Osman Wad Adam to gather his own countrymen—the Taisha—nearer Omdurman. The youthful Osman gave to those wild nomads a most glowing account of the magnificent countries near the Nile, and of the Khalifa's enormous power and authority, and to prove the truth of what he said, he showed them all sorts of glittering dollars, and various kinds of cloths; nor did he rest until he at last persuaded them to leave their homes.

They set out with all their movable property—women, children, and flocks—all bound for Omdurman; they plundered the inhabitants of the various countries through which they passed, and forcibly seized their camels for transport. The Dar Hameda tribe alone, through whose country they passed, lost 4,000 camels. When they reached El Obeid, a special tax was levied for their maintenance, but, quite regardless of this, they broke into the houses, and laid hands on all they could find.

From El Obeid they passed on to Tayara and Shatt, whence the Khalifa had them conveyed in steamers to Omdurman. There were, in all, 7,000 warriors, exclusive of women and children; their arrival in Omdurman was viewed with a certain amount of alarm, and not without reason. As the Arnauts and the Bashi Bazuks were utilized by the Government in the old days, so were the Taisha to be now utilised under the Khalifa's rule; he favoured them in every possible way, the beit el mal was made responsible for their maintenance and pay. After they had partially settled down, and some had been given the richest patches on the Nile banks, as well as several of the islands, the others were then removed to Berber, Abu Hamed, Dongola, and the Gezireh.

In all these places they very soon made themselves masters of the situation, and the Khalifa gave them the most important Government posts to fill; but notwithstanding all this favoured treatment, still they were not content: the more they had, the more they wanted. Upwards of 4,000 of them deserted from Omdurman, to proceed to their own country; but they were overtaken, and, as an example to the remainder, the right hand and left foot of three of them were cut off, though it was with the greatest reluctance that he ever punished his own countrymen in this way. Two hundred of the deserters were put in prison, where some of them died in a few days: the horrors of this prison so impressed these wild children of the desert, that to this day they tremble at the thought of it.

The sheikh of the Taisha was a man named Ghazali, who was by no means happy in his new position; and though he was well received by Abdullah, still he could not brook the feeling of being under the authority of a man who at one time had been one of his lowest menials. It was reported to the Khalifa that he was discontented, he was therefore summoned before him, and addressed as follows:—

"When you were sheikh in your own country, were we not obliged to kiss your hand, and show you all reverence and respect? Yes: and it was quite right to do so. But now God has placed me over you as your master, then why do you now refuse to give me the same honour and respect which you required of your own subjects when you were in a similar position?"

Ghazali made no reply, but then and there decided to run away. This showed a spirit of independence which had been dead amongst the Arabs for centuries, and to find it we have to go back to the time of Saladin. Sheikh Ghazali was a man who knew no fear, and he confided his plans to his wife and daughter, and they—far from deterring him—rather encouraged him to carry it out. His wife saddled his horse, and urged him rather to die than to submit to a position so far beneath him.