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

by Josef Ohrwalder; Sir F. R. Wingate

Ahmed said that we should be at Murat on the morning of the 7th of December. He told us how the Dervishes had sometimes pursued fugitives as far as this, and not long ago had killed one near here. Our poor camels were now dragging their weary limbs very slowly; the whip was now quite useless, as it had not the smallest effect in increasing their pace. Besides, it was pain to me to beat the good creatures that had helped us to escape. We were so utterly fatigued that it was with the greatest difficulty we succeeded in keeping on our camels at all; hunger, sleeplessness, and absolute lassitude had completely conquered us, and our wounds pained and irritated us; but the feeling that we were almost safe was as balm to both mind and body.

Just before sunset we turned down the khor which leads to Murat; the fort covering the wells was visible on the hills, surmounted by the red flag with the white crescent and star in the centre. "Ahmed," I cried, "greet the flag of freedom!" and our courageous deliverer seized his gun and fired shot after shot into the air, to announce our arrival to the Egyptian garrison. The echo of these shots resounded again and again in the deep valleys, as if joining with us in our joy at deliverance from the hands of the cruel Khalifa Abdullah. They seemed to announce the "release of our spirits from beneath his sheepskin." This was an expression which the Khalifa delighted to use when talking of his captured enemies, whose souls, he said, lay beneath his "furwa," meaning that their lives were entirely in his hands.

Now we were actually in safety. A prayer of the deepest gratitude went up from the very depths of our thankful hearts; it is quite impossible to find words to express what we then felt. Our camels seemed to pull themselves together for a final effort, so as to present us honourably to the Ababdehs, who were now coming out to meet us.

The reports of our rifles had at first caused some stir in the little garrison, who feared a sudden attack, and had come out fully armed; but they soon recognized us, and answered our salute by discharging their guns in the air. These good people received us most kindly, asked us a thousand questions, and, surrounding us, brought us to the commandant's hut. Here, on the 8th of December, the Feast of the Immaculate Conception, we alighted from our camels, and the hopes which had kept us alive for years, were at last realized. This supreme moment, about which we had so often talked with our companions in adversity, which we had thought about, dreamed about, and pictured to ourselves, this delicious moment had come at last, and we were free!

But the effects of hunger, fatigue, and the sights and scenes we had gone through during the last month, did not disappear so easily; our senses seemed dulled, and our first thought on entering the commandant's hut was to lie down on the floor and go to sleep, but, strange to say, that wonderful restorer would not come; we sat gossiping with the Ababdehs, who could scarcely credit that we, especially the sisters, could have survived such a ride. We had covered the entire distance of 500 miles between Omdurman and Murat in seven days, including the day we had spent wandering about in the hills before crossing the river.

The staying power of our camels had astonished me; how easily one of them might have stumbled and broken its leg as we trotted hard through the dark nights, unable to see where we were going! But Ahmed and his companions had used all their knowledge in securing thoroughly good animals; our excellent guides had been ever ready to help and assist us; full of energy and pluck, they had carried out their enterprise with the utmost sagacity and integrity.

Poor Ahmed had dwindled down almost to a skeleton, and when he dismounted at Murat was overcome by a fit of dizziness, from which he did not recover for an hour.

Meanwhile we had refreshed ourselves with a cup of coffee and some bread and milk which the commandant, Mohammed Saleh, had offered us, and which had revived us considerably. Murat is situated in the desert, about midway between Korosko and Abu Hamed; here three valleys unite in a sort of crater, and the hill-tops are crowned with small forts built by the Ababdehs, from whence they can keep guard over the main wells, and, besides, see for an immense distance all around.

This, the most advanced Egyptian outpost, is garrisoned by the Ababdeh Arabs of Saleh Bey, the son of Hussein Pasha Khalifa; these people live very simply in the midst of this great desert, drawing their provisions monthly from Korosko. There are a number of wells, but the water is brackish and in summer almost undrinkable, though it is not so bad in the winter; but we had still some of our Nile water, which had cost us so dearly at Meshra Dehesh. Close to the wells is a little hut, built by Gordon's orders.

Murat is a most desolate and lonely spot, unbearably hot in the summer, when the fierce rays of the sun are reflected from all sides of the deep crater-like valley in which it lies. The same day that we arrived one of Ahmed Hassan's nephews had reached Murat from Korosko, and gave us some of the dates and flour he was taking into the Sudan; he left for Abu Hamed the next day, and no doubt the news of our safe arrival was soon announced in Omdurman.