On our arrival at Abdullah's hut, we found ourselves in company with twenty robbers who were chained hand and foot. An enormous crowd stood round, and amongst the faces I noticed some of our Delen friends, who had evidently followed us to see what the end would be. Our guard, armed with Remington rifles, stood around us, and close to us was the Khalifa Abdullah's horse, which always remained saddled—a witness to his unbounded energy. A short distance off, about eighty flags were planted in the ground, and beside them were the war-drums. Hardly had we seated ourselves when the Khalifa Abdullah entered. He was at that time a man of about thirty-three years of age, of middle height, very thin—in fact, little else but skin and bone; he greeted us kindly, and invited us to become Moslems. From his bombastic conversation, we soon saw that he was a man of no education whatever, and he ended up by saying that if we refused to obey we had only death to expect. We were then marched off.
On the evening of the 27th of September, when George Stambuli came to tell us that if we did not embrace Islam, we should most certainly die, we gave him no hope that we should change our minds. The Mahdi frequently sent people to teach us the truths of religion, but we soon tired of their nonsensical chattering, and Father Bonomi used to send them away with strong words. Shortly afterwards Abdullah came again, bringing a water-melon with him, and in default of a knife he broke it on the ground; but we refused to take any. Greatly annoyed at this, he went off in a rage, saying that we should be beheaded the following morning.
At midnight Stambuli came to us again, to say that he had offered a considerable sum for our ransom, but that the Mahdi had refused to accept it. We therefore gave him the few dollars we had left, and asked him to come and see us the following morning, which he promised to do. We employed our few remaining hours in preparation for death. The terrors and alarms which we had undergone for the last five months were over at last; in the midst of our sufferings the thought of death, which should soon take us out of the hands of these barbarians, was a comfort to us. A deep quiet had now settled down over the camp, which was only occasionally broken by the clank of the prisoners' chains.
Just before dawn a wonderful comet appeared in the east; its golden tail seemed to project about ten feet into the blue firmament, and was a most striking sight. It brought back to our minds the star in the east which stood over the manger at Bethlehem. The Arabs called it "Nigmet el Mahdi" (the Mahdi's star).
According to Sudan superstition, the appearance of a comet is supposed to forebode evil, and, indeed, what catastrophe could have been greater than that which was now impending over the Sudan? The sudden clang of the war-drum startled me from the meditations which the appearance of that strange comet had produced. The beating of the drums and the blast of the great ivory horn (onbeïa) was the signal for the "Ardeh-Kebir," or grand review, and I now had to bethink me of my own affairs and let the star pursue its way in the heavens.
The emirs' war-drums now took up the signal, and soon people were rushing from all directions towards their particular flags, which were planted to the east of El Obeid. Stambuli again appeared and announced to us that our sufferings were nearly over. We gave him a small piece of paper on which we had written our last farewells to our own loved ones at home, and had signed our names. This we begged him to send on when an opportunity occurred. Weeping bitterly, he took the paper and went to his hut, saying he could not bear to look on at our execution.
We were now all ready, and at about nine o'clock a party of thirty men armed with lances arrived and ordered us to follow them. We were still suffering from fatigue, but we got up and followed. After about half an hour's walk we arrived before the Dervish hosts, and thanked God that victory was now so near. About 40,000 men were standing on parade, and thousands of others were moving about the camp like ants. We were taken to a central position and ordered to bend our necks to receive the death-blow, and without the smallest hesitation we did so. But our hour had not yet come. We were summoned before the Mahdi, who was riding on a magnificent white camel; behind him rode a slave carrying an umbrella to shade him from the sun's rays. As we approached, he turned round to us and said, "May God lead you into the way of truth," and then rode on.
The troops were now dismissed, and we were immediately surrounded by a turbulent crowd, who threatened to crush us to death; but the Mahdi, seeing us in danger, turned back, and ordered us to walk in front of his camel for protection. We did so, but were too weary to keep up, and then the Mahdi gave orders, which we could not understand, to a number of different emirs; the latter ordered us to halt until the great rush of people had passed, then they formed a square and asked each one of us separately whether we agreed to become Moslems or would prefer to suffer death. Each one of us answered resolutely—death! Then, full of anger, we were forced on—exhausted and covered from head to foot with dust—till we reached the Mahdi's hut. Having arrived there he said, "Have you not seen my army?" and then he began to boast of the number of his followers and their great bravery. We said nothing. He then went off, and we were taken back to Khalifa Abdullah's hut.
A council was now held to consider our fate; the majority were for killing us, but a certain Hajji Khaled—now an emir in Omdurman—pointed out that, according to the Moslem law, it was not lawful to kill priests who had not offered any armed resistance, and who were, moreover, captives. His view of the case was accepted, and we were handed over to George Stambuli, who was made responsible for us. We then left Abdullah's hut, and proceeded to Stambuli's, which was barely large enough for himself and his family, so we were obliged to take up our quarters outside in the open, where we remained for fifteen days, exposed to the continual insults of the Arabs, until we were able to build a hut for ourselves. We were now able to take a survey of this gigantic camp. From the sandhill Gianzara almost up to the base of the Om Herezeh mountain, was one mass of small huts, these were merely enclosures made of branches of euphorbia and (sorghum) dhurra stalks, just sufficient to keep off the burning rays of the sun. Here and there a white tent indicated the headquarters of some important emir. Fiki Minneh's camp adjoined that of Gianzara, and extended from Fulla (a small pond which runs dry in the summer months), up to the base of Om Herezeh. The huts were built so close to each other that constant fires took place, which spread rapidly, and caused great destruction.
This enormous camp presented a wonderful spectacle, more especially at night, when almost every one had his own cooking fire, and the whole plain resembled a sea of fires which were lost in the distant horizon. The din and noise created by hundreds of thousands of men, women, and children, can be better imagined than described. Every emir's[D] dwelling was known by two flags which were always planted near the entrance, and beside them lay the war-drums, which were beaten day and night, almost without intermission. Besides all this, the neighing of thousands of horses rendered the din still more unbearable. The whole air was infected with the most sickening stench; but to these wretched people, pure or impure air makes no difference; they do not mind. All the filth was piled behind the huts, dead donkeys lay about unburied; no attempt was made to keep the place clean, and all this huge mass of people lived in the midst of an ever-increasing heap of rotting impurities. A daily market was held, and the people laid their goods on the ground, sheltering themselves under a strip of cloth, known as "Farda," stretched on the points of lances, the bases of which were stuck in the ground. El Obeid was close by, the great arched gate of the Mudirieh towered above the other houses of the town, and over it floated the red Egyptian flag, which was hoisted every Friday. Some of the Dervishes used to conceal themselves in the deserted houses of the town and fire at the fort, while others pulled down the roofs and walls and dragged away the beams to the camp, and there cut them up for firewood. Our church, which was covered with galvanised iron plates, was completely destroyed; even the mosque was not spared. There was a busy scene day and night at the Oshra well; here thousands of male and female slaves drew water, and frequent quarrels and fights took place.