This news caused the greatest alarm in Galabat and Omdurman; but it also had the effect of making us indulge in pleasant dreams of release. Zeki Tummal took counsel with his emirs whether it would be better to await the enemy's arrival in the zariba or whether it would be advisable to advance and fight in the open. Kadi Ahmed urged that it would be better to stay in the zariba, and his advice was adopted; there is little doubt this was the wisest course to take, as the Abyssinian cavalry would undoubtedly have struck confusion into their ranks. Zeki's force now numbered 85,000 men, and was well disposed in the zariba to resist attack. Criers went through the market-place summoning all people to leave their business and take up arms for the defence of the town; messengers were also sent to the Khalifa to beg his blessing—in fact, great fear prevailed. Spies reported that the enemy were as numerous as the sand, that their numbers stretched beyond the horizon, and that when they moved such clouds of dust arose that the sun was quite obscured.

This news created almost a panic in Omdurman; besides, there is an old prophecy that the Abyssinians should come to Khartum; that their horses should wade knee-deep in blood, and that the King should tether his horse to the solitary tree on the White Nile near Khartum.

At the end of February the King quitted Gondar, and marched out to make holy war against the most bitter enemy to Christianity. When near Galabat he sent word to Zeki to say he was coming, lest it should be said that he had "come secretly as a thief." Numbers of women had also joined the Abyssinian army; they were, for the most part, the wives and concubines of the soldiers, and many others had fled from their parents to follow their lovers to battle.

On Saturday, the 9th of March, 1889, the King began his attack on Galabat. Such clouds of dust were raised that it was almost impossible to see anything. The zariba was stormed; some attempted to drag away the thorn bushes, others tried to set fire to it, whilst the Dervishes opened a terrific fire on the masses. Some Takruris, who had deserted Zeki's camp, reported that the part of the zariba held by Wad Ali was the weakest, and, in consequence, the Abyssinians made a supreme effort to break in at that point.

The din and noise was beyond description. At length, after a very hard fight, the Abyssinians succeeded in forcing an entry, and then their masses rolled in like a great storm stream, carrying everything before them. The thousands of Dervish women within now raised terrible cries as the enemy approached, killing and destroying all in their path; they set fire to the straw huts; the din of the firing, the shouts and screams of the men and women, mingled with the crackling and wild rush of the flames, were terrible beyond description. Already the Abyssinians had taken possession of the beit el mal, and had occupied the house in which Abu Anga's harem lived, and now they were searching for his body, which they wanted to pull out of the ground and throw into the flames, in revenge for the burning of Gondar.

The strength of the Mahdiists was now almost exhausted, ammunition was running short, and it was thought the fight was nearly over, when suddenly the news spread amongst the Abyssinians that their King had been struck by a bullet. This was the signal for a general retreat: everyone seized all the booty he could lay his hands upon, and soon the zariba was evacuated; several of the women were carried off as captives, including Abu Anga's harem, and the Abyssinians then made for the river Atbara.

Now was the time for the Dervishes to reverse their defeat; they had suffered very heavily, Wad Ali's division had been almost annihilated; but they lost no time in cutting off some of the Abyssinians' heads and sending them at once to Omdurman, with the information that they had gained a great victory, for Kadi Ahmed well knew how anxious was the Khalifa, and how fearful that defeat should overtake his forces.

The Dervishes thought the Abyssinians would renew their attack the next day, but to their surprise no one appeared; then spies were sent out to discover their whereabouts, and they brought back information that the Abyssinian force was now in full retreat towards the Atbara. This information decided Zeki to pursue, and on the 11th of March the Dervish force came up with a large portion of the Abyssinian army encamped on the river bank; a battle ensued, in which the Abyssinians lost heavily and fled precipitately, leaving the dead body of King John in the hands of the Dervishes. It was discovered carefully packed in a long box and sealed with wax; at first it was thought to contain treasure, but on opening it the odour of decay left little doubt that the body they had attempted to embalm was none other than that of the unfortunate John, and this was confirmed by the Abyssinian prisoners. The King's head was cut off and sent to Omdurman.

Here the wildest excitement prevailed, the Khalifa Abdullah ordered the great war-drums to be beaten and the onbeïa to be sounded. A large review took place. The Abyssinian heads were paraded and said to be those of Eas Alula, Eas Mariam, and Saleh Shanga; but this was not true. However, the Khalifa's delight knew no bounds, and our sorrow was proportionately great. Once more our cherished hopes had been dashed to the ground, and it seemed as if all chance of escape was now quite at an end.

The heads were put upon the gallows, and left no doubt that a great victory had been won, then three days afterwards came the news that the King had been killed. Fixed high up on a camel's back, John's head was paraded up and down through the market-place, preceded by a herald shouting out that the mighty Negûs had been slain, and that now was a time for festivity and rejoicing. The Khalifa was quite intoxicated by his success. He publicly exposed the articles captured with the King's body, amongst which was the throne from which the cross had been removed; this was afterwards replaced in Omdurman and retained in the beit el mal.