With regard to ourselves, however, as we were not permitted to leave, we resolved to try and escape; but this was most difficult, for we were avoided by everyone and no one dared associate with us. We managed, however, to procure a trustworthy man, who succeeded in getting us camels and guides; but God had disposed otherwise. Khalifa Abdullah, accompanied by a number of followers, suddenly appeared at our huts on the 28th of March, and Father Bonomi, brother Joseph Rognotto and myself were summoned before him. We found him seated on his sheepskin in the midst of a circle of emirs, and when he had beckoned to us to sit down, he then began to address to us a heap of questions, all leading up to the one important point—that we should accept his faith. His arguments were valueless, and had no effect upon us, so we were sent back to our huts.
That evening, at about sunset, some thirty men, mounted on horses, broke into our humble abode, and said that they had orders to remove the sisters, assuring us with mock modesty that no harm should happen to them. We, however, well knew what would happen, and absolutely refused to be separated, saying that if they wished they could kill us, and cut off our heads; but that it would be a cruel shame for the Mahdi to ill-treat these poor women after all his solemn promises and assurances. But of what avail could our protests be against brutal violence! They forced their way in, seized the sisters, and took them before the Khalifa Abdullah. He and Khalifa Sherif used every means of cruel barbarity to shake the faith of these poor sisters, and the latter, seizing a pair of scissors, which one of the sisters was carrying, cut the partition between her nostrils. The Khalifa's wives also howled and insulted them in every base way, and then they were distributed amongst the emirs, and sent to Rahad.
We spent that night in our own huts, but early the following morning the Dervishes came and took us to the Khalifa, who made us over to various emirs. My master was to be Abdullah Wad en Nur; but as at that time he happened to be at Jebel Dair, I was made over to his brother Makin, who was then occupying Mohammed Said Pasha's house. Father Bonomi, together with the little property we had left, was put into the beit el mal; but my diary, which I had now written for the third time, also Herlth's diary, General Hicks's Bible and prayer book, and a sandwich case and small bundle, belonging to O'Donovan, were all lost. We were now exposed to ill-treatment and insult from all sides. The Mahdi's three sons, ranging from seven to ten years of age, used to come and insult me daily; but I cannot mention the details, which will for ever remain engraven on my memory.
At length, on the 7th of April, 1884, the Mahdi set out, and we with him. The huge camp, swarming with thousands and thousands of people, became empty in a few days, and each one, as he left his hut, set fire to it, so that nothing was to be seen but clouds of smoke and flames darting upwards to the sky.
Just as we were leaving I was made over to another master, Idris Wad el Hashmi. When I arrived at his house, I found everything ready for the journey; numbers of well-bound books were lying about on the floor. I picked one up, and found it was 'The Soldier's Pocket Book,' by Lord Wolseley. I would like to have searched amongst these books for a diary, but they turned me out: Idris had taken them out of some good leather trunks, which he had filled with his own effects. Three days after the Mahdi's departure my master and I quitted El Obeid. The road to Rahad was one uninterrupted stream of human beings—men, women, and children; camels carrying the household goods, on the top of which were fastened angaribs, on which women were seated; oxen and donkeys, all heavily laden; numbers of Arabs were driving along their flocks with them; here one would see a camel fallen prone under its heavy load, there a child or a slave vainly seeking in the crowd for his lost master. Of course I had to walk, and to act as a camel-driver as well, subject to continual insult and threatening. I moved along as best I could; the Arabs applauded my master's good sense in making me his camel-driver, and urged that I should carry a load as well. We had to halt frequently, as the camels were so heavily laden.
The burning sun and fatigue were terribly oppressive, and it is always a wonder to me how I escaped sunstroke. As to food, I had a share of my master's horses' meal. In the evening I was obliged to clean the dokhn, which was given to the horse, and the pangs of hunger made me covet even this, while I was obliged to ask my master's slave to occasionally give me a gulp of water; indeed, this slave pitied my wretched state.
It took us three days to reach Rahad, though, under ordinary circumstances, the journey could easily be performed in one and a half days. The burning sand had blistered my feet, and caused my legs to swell. One day I saw the unfortunate King Adam, of Tagalla, riding by; he was mounted on a mule, and his feet heavily chained. They thought that the sight of his native mountains might make him wish to desert. Soon after his arrival at Rahad the poor king died, heart-broken, and to him death must have come as a happy deliverance; while to us, who also longed for it, death would never come.
Rahad is situated in a depression, which in winter becomes a swamp; the water remains standing for some time, and there are numerous wells, which are sufficient for a large number of men and animals. During the dry season, Rahad is a centre in which large numbers of Arab tribes collect, and about four hours to the south rises the great Dobab mountain (called by the Arabs Dair, because of its semicircular shape). Dobab is perhaps the best naturally-fortified hill of the entire Nuba group. It is accessible from one side only, and is easily defensible; there are quantities of water, which would enable the inhabitants to stand a prolonged siege. The circumference of the base of the mountain is about eighteen miles, and the inhabitants live on the top.
Already the Dervishes had constructed their rude barracks under the shady trees of Rahad, and soon an enormous camp sprang up. Shortly after my arrival, I was again obliged to change masters; the one with whom I had recently been was not really bad, but my new master, Abdel Halim Wad Id, was a very great and fanatical emir.
Before, however, I proceed to describe the events which occurred at Rahad, I must give a brief outline of what had happened to the sisters since they were so cruelly wrenched away from us. They had set out from Rahad with the various emirs amongst whom they had been distributed; on the journey they suffered greatly; they were obliged to walk the whole distance barefooted, over thorns and burning sand; they underwent the agonies of hunger and thirst, and some of them had to carry loads; one of them, for a whole day, had not a drop of water to drink. These brutal savages were continually beating, insulting, and abusing them, and when, tired and weary, they sat down for a moment, they were driven forward under the lash of the cruel whip. On their arrival at Rahad they scarcely looked like human beings, with their faces all scorched and peeled by the burning sun; and here new tortures awaited them. One of them was suspended from a tree, and beaten on the soles of the feet until they became swollen and black, and soon afterwards the nails dropped off. In spite of all this suffering, and notwithstanding the continual threats of these barbarians that they would be violated, these sisters clung firmly to their faith and belief.