Ten Years' Captivity in the Mahdi's Camp 1882-1892

by Josef Ohrwalder; Sir F. R. Wingate

Yakub is a man whom even the leaders of Mahdiism find a difficulty in approaching, and poor Pertekachi tried for months before he obtained a hearing; but at length he was attended to, and the various trials and experiments of the new powder, both in guns and Remington rifles, proved most satisfactory.

Pertekachi at once rose in favour in the eyes of Abdullah and Yakub, and was soon comparatively well off. The Khalifa ordered a bottle of the powder to be placed in the Antik Khana, on which was written: "Powder invented by the Osta (Master) Pertekachi."

At first Pertekachi set to work to improve the damaged powder, of which there were quantities of old barrels taken out of the Government magazines, but, having been left in damp places, it had become crusted. For several months he continued his work, to the complete satisfaction of Abdullah, but the poor man was soon to come to a terrible end.

On the 26th of January, 1891, Pertekachi as usual went to the market-place at an early hour to have a chat with the other Europeans. He happened to say: "To-day is the anniversary of the fall of Khartum—Gordon's day—a black day!" In the Sudan it is the custom to call a day on which a misfortune has occurred "Yom aswad" (a black day). And to the survivors of Khartum, the 26th of January is always looked upon as a day of grief and sorrow; several people give alms for the rest of the souls of their murdered friends.

Pertekachi had intended to go and look at the new house he had just built; but being the 26th of January, he would not go to it, and decided to go to the beit el mal instead, where he had some work to do. He found the workmen busy opening one of the barrels of damaged powder, and after taking a cup of coffee, he went to help them, as they seemed to be in difficulty. He had scarcely reached the spot when—owing to a sudden blow or shock, or clumsiness on the part of the workmen—the powder blew up with a most terrific explosion which shook the whole town, and terrified the inhabitants, who rushed wildly about in all directions to see what had occurred. I happened at the time to be sitting at my loom, and at once ran up to the roof of my house, and there, in the direction of the beit el mal, I saw a column of thick smoke ascending.

My first thought was for poor Yusef. I hastened to the beit el mal, which was half an hour's walk from my hut, and found crowds going in the same direction. The Khalifa himself appeared on the scene, he came riding along on a donkey, with only one or two men. His first question was, "Osta Yusef fi?" ("Is the Master Yusef alive?") "Taish enta!" ("May you live!") was the reply. These are the words in which Arabs always announce a death.

A poor Egyptian woman, whose only son was employed as Pertekachi's clerk and had been killed, was weeping and wailing in the most heart-rending way—her husband and another son had been murdered in Khartum—and now wild with grief she was cursing the Mahdi, through whom her dear ones had been brought to an untimely end. Some of the Ansar approached, and threatened to beat her with a whip if she did not stop. But she shouted at them, "Kill me as well! Why should I live any longer? You have killed my dear ones—may God kill you!"

The Khalifa, who was standing near, rebuked his officious followers, saying: "Let her weep, she is 'maharūka'" (i.e. consumed with the pain of affliction). He did not stay long at the scene of the accident, but went away very sadly.

All Pertekachi's fellow-countrymen hastened to the spot. Of the large square house built of rough sun-dried bricks, only the four walls were left standing; the wooden roof had been blown to pieces, and it was no small difficulty to collect the shattered remains of those who had been victimized. A pair of legs were found fifty yards away, a head was found half buried in the wall; there was not a hand to be found anywhere.

Another Greek had been killed with Pertekachi, named Yusef Angeli. His head and feet had disappeared, and his body was so shattered as to be almost unrecognizable; he had been in chains, and his foot makia was found fixed in his leg. Poor Angeli had led a miserable life in Omdurman; he had neither home nor friends, and had lived in the market as a Greek hawker. Towards the end of 1890 he had been sent by another Greek to Berber, to try and recover a debt for him. This mission was to be carried out in secret, for Europeans are strictly forbidden to leave Omdurman, and the mukuddum in charge is obliged at once to report any absentees.