At El Obeid the slow advance of the troops could not be understood, and this had a still more convincing effect on the Dervishes that the expedition must be in a bad way. It was a matter of no surprise that the troops had not been victorious, as it was known that every element of success was wanting; as for the poor Egyptians, the capture of a cow was an event of great importance, and General Hicks ordered every officer to be given a piece of it.
Colonel Farquhar, chief of the staff, did all he could to raise the courage of the soldiers. On one occasion some horsemen were seen a short distance away sitting fearlessly on their horses as if challenging anyone to come out and fight them. When Farquhar saw them he mounted his horse and advanced straight on them. When he approached they began to retire, but he went in pursuit, and coming up with them killed two, the third he pulled off his horse, and capturing the horses brought them back to camp. In spite, however, of such a gallant example, the men were listless and out of heart; the long marches had thoroughly exhausted them.
COLONEL ARTHUR FARQUHAR.
(Chief of the Staff.)
At Rahad, Gustav Klootz, a native of Berlin, deserted the army. He was Baron Seckendorf's servant; but at Shirkeleh he quitted his master's service, and became the servant of Mr. O'Donovan, correspondent of the Daily News. Klootz had certain socialistic tendencies, which caused him to change masters, and there is no doubt that these ideas had much to do with his desertion. He and a native of Saxony determined to escape secretly, and on the plea of gathering wood outside the camp, these two men succeeded one evening in passing the outposts. No sooner had they gone beyond the line than they heard firing, and the Saxony man, fearing a sudden attack, at once turned back to camp, whilst Klootz continued his flight. When he had gone a short distance he fired two shots, one to make the Egyptians believe that the enemy was close to them, and the other to make the enemy think that they were close to the Egyptian outposts. When night came on he lay down under a tree to sleep, regardless of the fact that he was between two enemies; and the next morning he began to debate with himself whether, after all, it would not be better to return. He would not have hesitated for an instant had he not thought that perhaps the Saxony man had betrayed his desertion. At length he decided there was nothing for it but to go on towards the Dervishes.
After going some distance he saw three dirty-looking men who pointed their rifles at him; but he signed to them that he was not coming as an enemy, and to further reassure them, he threw down his rifle and revolver on the ground, and advanced towards them. The Arabs also approached; but Klootz, who did not understand a word of Arabic, called out, "Dervish—where is the Dervish?" (by "Dervish" he meant the Mahdi.) The Arabs understood perfectly what he wanted to say, but at that moment they were thinking much more of the loot they saw before them than of the Mahdi; so they seized the little money Klootz had, and took possession of his watch, rifle, revolver, and even his boots. Klootz soon realised into whose hands he had fallen, for these Arabs, having taken everything from him, then directed him towards the Dervish camp. On he plodded barefooted, through the long grass, and often over thorns, until at last he met an old woman, who made him understand by gestures that he was close on the camp. A few moments later several horsemen appeared, and, surrounding him, took him in triumph to Abu Girgeh; for they thought at length they had captured a hated Englishman. Klootz, to his astonishment, now found himself in a large entrenched camp, where the Dervishes were living in perfect safety. The horsemen had told Abu Girgeh that they had found him sitting in a tree writing, so he was at once put in chains, tied tightly to a bedstead, and then interrogated about Hicks's troops. At the same time a messenger was sent to the Mahdi to inquire what should be done with the Englishman. The Mahdi ordered that he should be at once brought to El Obeid; the chains were therefore removed, and a rope put round his neck, by which he was drawn by horsemen to the Mahdi's camp. The journey lasted a day and a half, and he was obliged to walk the whole way barefooted in the burning sun, so that when he reached El Obeid his feet were swollen up and in a dreadful condition.
As swift as lightning the news now spread through the camp that an English officer had been captured. Who could the unfortunate man be? we wondered. When Klootz was brought before the Mahdi all he could say was that he was Nimsawi (a German). The Mahdi therefore summoned Stambuli, Bonomi, and myself, to act as interpreters. When we entered the crowded enclosure everyone understood the object of our coming; most of them were busy cleaning their lances, and shouted out after us, "Mind you make careful inquiries of him." There was such a crowd in front of the Mahdi's tent that it was almost impossible to make our way through; but at last there was a cry of "Ahl Delen" ("Here are the Delen people"), and they made way for us. We took off our shoes, and were shown into the Mahdi's presence. I was intensely anxious to see who this Englishman might be; we had seen nothing but black faces for so long, that had he been a creature from the other world, we could not have been more interested; then we were on tenter-hooks to know how the expedition was progressing, whether it was under English command, &c., &c. Of course General Hicks's name was well known, but we knew nothing about the composition of his force.
When we entered we saw the Mahdi, the supposed English officer, and Ahmed Wad Suleiman sitting on a straw mat. We saluted the Mahdi, who returned our salute in a most gracious manner. He was smiling, and seemed much pleased. He introduced the Englishman to me, and asked me to question him about his coming. My imagination, in which I had pictured an Englishman, received a rude shock, for I beheld before me a young man with blonde hair, blue eyes, a sunburnt face, and a nose from which the skin was peeled off. He wore a dirty tarbush; his clothes were made of rough canvas, and he looked very much like the fireman of an engine. Before anything else I expressed to him my sincere pity at his having fallen into the hands of savages, for I did not then know that he had come of his own accord. I asked him his name; he replied, "Gustav Klootz, of Berlin," and said that he was the correspondent of an important newspaper. He afterwards gave me a true account of himself. I translated everything to the Mahdi. I then asked him about the state of the army. He said that it consisted of barely 10,000 men, and he added that it was generally believed by the European officers that they would be defeated. It was with the greatest difficulty that I concealed the blow to my feelings which this news occasioned. I asked him why he deserted, and he excused himself by saying that he did so to save his life. I now knew that he could be no soldier; but, of course, I did not translate to the Mahdi the wretched account he gave of the army. At this moment I received a kick in the ribs from Ahmed Wad Suleiman, who cried out, "Ask him how many guns are in possession of the unbelievers?" I was then given a small book, which turned out to be Klootz's diary, and was told to translate it. There were only a few leaves, in which the date of departure from Shatt and other places was noted; the number of camels that died daily; a few observations on his master, and sundry other things.
The Mahdi then asked whether, if he wrote to Hicks, he would be likely to surrender, to which Klootz naturally replied that he was sure nothing would induce him to do so.