Gregory always went down, as soon as the column arrived at its halting place, as he did before starting in the evening, to bathe in some quiet pool or backwater; and, much as he had set himself against taking spirits, he found that he was unable to eat his meals, unless he took a spoonful or two with his water, or cold tea.

On the evening of the third day, they passed the battlefield of Kirkeban, where General Earle fell when the River Expedition was attacked by the Dervishes. Next day they halted at Hebbeh, where Colonel Stewart, on his way down with a number of refugees from Khartoum, was treacherously murdered. A portion of the steamer was still visible in the river.

Day after day the column plodded on, for the most part strung out in single file, the line extending over many miles; and, late on the evening of the 6th of August, they reached a spot within a mile and a half of Abu Hamed, the hundred and eighteen miles having been accomplished in seven days and a half.

So far as they knew, the enemy had, as yet, received no news of their approach. Three hours' rest was given the troops, and then they marched out, in order of battle.

A fair idea of the position had been obtained from the friendly natives. Abu Hamed lay on the river. The desert sloped gradually down to it, on all sides; with a sharp, deep descent within two hundred yards of the town. The houses were all loopholed, for defence.

When within a mile of the town, they must have been sighted by the Dervish sentries on a lofty watchtower. No movement, however, was visible, and there was a general feeling of disappointment, as the impression gained ground that the enemy had retreated. The 9th and 10th Soudanese made a sweep round, to attack from the desert side. The 11th, and half of the Egyptian battalion—the other half having been left to guard the baggage—followed the course of the river.

Major Kincaid rode forward, to the edge of the steep slope that looked down to the town. He could see no one moving about. The Dervish trenches, about eighty yards away, appeared empty; and he was about to write a message to the General, saying that the place was deserted, when a sharp fire suddenly opened upon him. He turned to ride back to warn the General, but he was too late; for, at the same moment, Hunter with his staff galloped up to the edge of the slope, and was immediately saluted by a heavy volley; which, however, was fired so wildly that none of the party was hit.

The artillery were now ordered to bombard the place. At first, they could only fire at the tops of the houses; but, changing their position, they found a spot where they could command the town. For half an hour this continued. The infantry were drawn up just beyond the brow, where they could not be seen by the defenders. The Dervishes gave no signs of life, and as the artillery could not depress their guns sufficiently to enable them to rake the trenches, the infantry were ordered to charge.

As soon as they reached the edge of the dip, a storm of musketry broke out from the Dervish trenches, but, fortunately, the greater portion of the bullets flew overhead. Macdonald had intended to carry the place at the point of the bayonet, without firing; but the troops, suddenly exposed to such a storm of musketry, halted and opened fire without orders; the result being that they suffered a great deal more than they would have done, had they crossed the eighty yards, which divided them from the trench, by a rush. Standing, as they did, against the skyline, the Dervishes were able to pick them off; they themselves showing only their heads above the trenches. Two of the mounted officers of the 10th were killed, and two had their horses shot under them.

Macdonald and his officers rushed along in front of the line, knocking up the men's muskets; and abusing them, in the strongest terms, for their disobedience to orders. The moment the fire ceased, the troops rushed forward; and the Dervishes at once abandoned their trenches, and ran back to the line of houses. These were crowded together, divided by narrow winding lanes, and here a desperate struggle took place.

The Dervishes defended themselves with the greatest tenacity, sometimes rushing out and hurling themselves upon their assailants, and defending the houses to the last, making a stand when the doors were burst open, until the last of the inmates were either shot or bayoneted. So determined was the defense of some of the larger houses, that it was necessary to bring up the guns and batter an entrance. Many of the houses were found, when the troops burst in, to be tenanted only by dead; for the Soudanese always heralded their attack by firing several volleys, and the bullets made their way through and through the mud walls, as if they had been paper.

About seventy or eighty horsemen and a hundred Dervish infantry escaped, but the rest were either killed or made prisoners, together with Mahomed Zein, the governor. A quantity of arms, camels, and horses were also captured. The loss on our side was two British officers killed, and twenty-one of the black troops; and three Egyptian officers, and sixty-one men wounded.

When the convoy halted, previous to the troops marching to the attack, Gregory, whose duties with the baggage had now ended, joined the General's staff and rode forward with them. Hunter had glanced round, as he rode up, and answered with a nod when he saluted, and asked if he could come.

He felt rather scared on the Dervishes opening fire so suddenly, when the General's impatience had led him to ride forward, without waiting for Major Kincaid's report. After the troops rushed into the town, the General maintained his position at the edge of the dip, for the narrow streets were so crowded with men that a group of horsemen could hardly have forced their way in, and it would be impossible to see what was going on, and to issue orders.

Mahomed Zein had not followed the example of some of his followers, and died fighting to the last. He was found hiding under a bed, and was brought before General Hunter; who asked him why he fought, when he must have known that it was useless; to which he replied:

"I knew that you had only three times as many as I had, and every one of my men is worth four of yours. You could not fire till you were quite close up, and at that range our rifles are as good as yours."

The General asked what he thought Mahmud would do, to which he replied:

"He will be down here in five days, and wipe you out!"

It was necessary to halt at Abu Hamed, until stores came up. Captain Keppel, Royal Navy, and the officers commanding the gunboats were toiling at the cataracts to bring them up. Nevertheless one of these was capsized, and only three got through safely. Major Pink, with a large number of troops from Merawi, succeeded in hauling the sailing boats through.

A large column of laden camels was, at the same time, being pushed forward by the caravan route from Korosko. It was a time of much anxiety, till stores began to arrive; for, had Mahmud advanced at once, the passage up the river would have been arrested, and the land column cut off; in which case the little force would have been reduced to sore straits, as they must have stood on the defensive until reinforcements reached them.

There was, too, some anxiety as to the safety of the forces at Ambukol and Korti; for Mahmud, on learning that the garrisons had been weakened by the despatch of troops to Abu Hamed, might have crossed the desert with all his force and fallen upon them. Mahmud had indeed, as it turned out, believed that the expedition to Abu Hamed was only undertaken to cover the flank of the Egyptian army from attack, from that quarter; and still believed that it was from Merawi that the main British force would advance against him.

Before the supplies had all arrived, the position changed; as news came that Berber was being evacuated by the Dervishes. The information was telegraphed to the Sirdar, who at once ordered that a force of the friendly Arabs, escorted by a gunboat, should go up to Berber to find if the news was true. One gunboat had already arrived, and General Hunter decided on going up in her himself. Two hundred of the Arabs, under Ahmed Bey, were to ride along the bank. They were to be mounted on the fastest camels that could be picked out; so that, if they encountered the Dervishes, they would have a fair chance of escaping, and getting under cover of the gunboat's fire.

"Mr. Hilliard," the General said, "I shall be obliged if you will accompany Ahmed Bey. The Arabs are always more steady, if they have an English officer with them. They will be ready to start in an hour. A signaller from the 11th Soudanese shall go with you; and you can notify, to us, the approach of any strong party of the enemy, and their direction; so that the gunboat can send a shell or two among them, as a hint that they had better keep out of range."

As his baggage camel was by no means a fast one, Gregory at first decided to leave it behind in charge of Zaki; but on going across to the Arab camp, Ahmed Bey at once offered to place a fast one at his disposal. He accordingly sent his own animal into the transport yard, committed the heavy wooden case, with the greater portion of his remaining stores, to the charge of the sergeant of the mess, retaining only three or four tins of preserved milk, some tea, four or five tins of meat, a bottle of brandy, and a few other necessaries. To these were added half a sheep and a few pounds of rice. These, with his tent and other belongings, were packed on the Arab camel; and Zaki rode beside it with great satisfaction, for he had been greatly cast down when his master first told him that he would have to remain behind. All the preparations were made in great haste, but they were completed just as Ahmed Bey moved out of his camp, with his two hundred picked men and camels.

Five minutes later, a whistle from the steamer told them that General Hunter, and the party with him, were also on the point of starting. The distance to be traversed to Berber was a hundred and thirty miles, and the expedition was undoubtedly a hazardous one. Even if the news was true, that the five thousand Dervishes who had been holding Berber had evacuated the town, it was quite possible that a part of the force had been sent down the river, to oppose any advance that might be made; or, if unable to do this, to carry the news of the advance to Mahmud. The Arabs were to keep abreast of the gunboat; and would, where the shores were flat, be covered by its guns. But at spots where the ground was high and precipitous, this assistance could scarcely avail them in case of an attack, unless the hundred soldiers on board the steamer could be landed.

As they rode along, Ahmed Bey explained to Gregory the plan that he should adopt, if they were attacked in such a position, and found their retreat cut off.

"The camels will all be made to lie down, and we shall fight behind them, as in an entrenchment. My men are all armed with rifles the government has given them, and we could beat off an attack by a great number; while, if we were on our camels and pursued, we should soon lose all order, and our shooting would be bad."

"I think that would be by far the best plan, sheik. Your two hundred men, and the hundred the gunboat could land, ought to be able to make a tough fight of it, against any number of the enemy.

"How long do you think we shall be, on the way?"

"About four days. The camels can easily travel thirty-five miles a day. We have six days' provisions with us, in case the gunboat cannot make its way up. Fortunately we have not to carry water, so that each camel only takes twenty pounds of food, for its rider; and forty pounds of grain, for itself. If we were pursued, we could throw that away, as we should only have to ride to some point where the gunboat could protect us. We could not hope to escape by speed, for the Dervishes could ride and run quite as fast as the camels could go."



Chapter 10: Afloat.

The first three days' journey passed without any adventure. From the natives who still remained in the little villages they passed, they learned that the report that the Dervishes had left Berber was generally believed; but whether they had marched for Metemmeh, or for some other point, was unknown. The people were delighted to see the gunboat; as, until its arrival, they had been in hourly fear of raiding parties. They had heard of the capture of Abu Hamed, by the British, from horsemen who had escaped; but all these had said, confidently, that Mahmud would speedily drive them out again; and they had been in hourly fear that the Dervishes would swoop down upon them, and carry off the few possessions still remaining to them.

When within thirty miles of Berber the Arabs had halted on the bank, watching the gunboat as, with great difficulty, it made its way up a cataract. Suddenly it was seen to stop, and a great bustle was observed on board. An exclamation of grief burst from the Arabs.

"She has struck on a rock!" Ahmed Bey exclaimed.

"I am afraid she has," said Gregory; who had, all along, ridden by his side at the head of the party. "I am afraid so. I hope she is not injured."

Unfortunately, the damage was serious. A hole had been knocked through her side, under water, and the water poured in, in volumes. A rush was made by those on board; and beds, pillows, and blankets were stuffed into the hole. This succeeded, to some extent, and she was brought alongside the bank.

The sheik and Gregory went down to meet her. General Hunter came to the side.

"A large hole has been knocked in her," he said, to the sheik. "We shall have to get the guns and stores on shore, to lighten her; and then heel her over, to get at the hole. It will certainly take two or three days; by that time, I hope, the other gunboat will be up.

"In the meantime, you must go on to Berber. I think there can be no doubt that the Dervishes have all left, but it is most important that we should know it, for certain. You must push straight on, and as soon as you arrive there, send word on to me by the fastest camel you have. If you are attacked, you will, of course, defend yourselves. Take up a position close to the river, and hold it until you are relieved. If you can send off news to me by a camel, do so; if not, seize a boat—there are some at every village—and send the news down by water. I will come on at once, with everyone here, to assist you."

"I will do as you order," the sheik said; "and if you see us no more, you will know that we died as brave men."

"I hope there is no fear of that," the General said, cheerfully. "You will defend yourselves as brave men if you are attacked, I am sure; but as I am convinced that the Dervishes have left Berber, I think there is little fear of your falling in with them."

Then he went on, in English, to Gregory.

"Keep them moving, Mr. Hilliard. Let them go as fast as they can. They are less likely to get nervous, if they are riding hard, than they would be if they dawdled along. If they press their camels, they will be in Berber this afternoon. See that a man starts at once, to bring me the news."

"Very well, sir. I will keep them at it, if I can."

The sheik rejoined his band, which gathered round to hear the result of his interview with the white general.

"The steamer is injured," he said, "but she will soon be made right, and will follow us. We are to have the honour of going on and occupying Berber, and will show ourselves worthy of it. There is little chance of our meeting the Dervishes. Had they been in Berber, we should have heard of them before this. If we meet them we will fight; and you, Abu, who have the fastest camel among us, will ride back here at all speed, and the General and his soldiers will come up to help us.

"Now, let us not waste a moment, but push forward. In five hours we shall be at Berber; and throughout your lives, you will be proud to say that you were the first to enter the town that the Dervishes have so long held."

A few of the men waved their guns, and shouted. The rest looked grave. However, they obeyed their chief's orders, and the cavalcade at once started. As they did so, Gregory drew his horse up alongside Zaki.

"Look here," he said, "if we see the Dervishes coming in force, I shall come to you, at once. You shall take my horse, it is faster than yours. I shall give you a note for the General, and you will ride back at full gallop, and give it to him. The horse is fast, and there will be no fear of their catching you, even if they chase; which they will not be likely to do, as they will be thinking of attacking us."

"Very well, master. I will do as you order me, but I would rather stop and fight, by your side."

"That you may be able to do some other time, Zaki. This time, you have got to fetch aid."

Then he rode on to join the chief. There was no talking along the line, every man had his rifle unslung and in his hand, every eye scanned the country. Hitherto, they had had unlimited faith in the power of the gunboat to protect them; now that they might have to face the Dervishes unaided, they felt the danger a serious one. They had come to fight the Dervishes, and were ready to do so, in anything like equal numbers; but the force they might meet would possibly be greatly stronger than their own—so strong that, although they might sell their lives dearly; they would, in the end, be overpowered.

For the first three hours, the camels were kept going at the top of their speed; but as they neared Berber, there was a perceptible slackness. Ahmed Bey and Gregory rode backwards and forwards along the line, keeping them together, and encouraging them.

"We shall get in without fighting," the Bey said. "We should have heard before this, had they been there. Do you think that they would have remained so long in the town, if they had learned that there are but two hundred of us, and one steamer? Mahmud would never have forgiven them, had they not fallen upon us and annihilated us. I only hope that two hundred will have been left there. It will add to our glory, to have won a battle, as well as taken the town. Your children will talk of it in their tents. Your women will be proud of you, and the men of the black regiments will say that we have shown ourselves to be as brave as they are.

"We will halt for half an hour, rest the camels, and then push on at full speed again; but mind, you have my orders: if you should see the enemy coming in force, you are to ride at once to the river bank, dismount, and make the camels lie down in a semicircle; then we have but to keep calm, and shoot straight, and we need not fear the Dervishes, however many of them there may be."

After the halt they again pushed forward. Gregory saw, with pleasure, that the Arabs were now thoroughly wound up to fighting point. The same vigilant watch was kept up as before; but the air of gloom that had hung over them, when they first started, had now disappeared; each man was ready to fight to the last. As the town was seen, the tension was at its highest; but the pace quickened, rather than relaxed.

"Now is the moment!" the Bey shouted. "If they are there, they will come out to fight us. If, in five minutes, they do not appear; it will be because they have all gone."

But there were no signs of the enemy, no clouds of dust rising in the town, that would tell of a hasty gathering. At last, they entered a straggling street. The women looked timidly from the windows; and then, on seeing that their robes did not bear the black patches worn by the Dervishes, they broke into loud cries of welcome.

"Are the Dervishes all gone?" Ahmed Bey asked, reining in his camel.

"They are all gone. The last left four days ago."

The sheik waved his rifle over his head; and his followers burst into loud shouts of triumph, and pressed on, firing their muskets in the air. As they proceeded, the natives poured out from their houses in wild delight. The Arabs kept on, till they reached the house formerly occupied by the Egyptian governor.

"I should say that you had better take possession of this, Bey. There seems to be a large courtyard, where you can put your camels. It is not likely that the Dervishes will return, but it is as well to be prepared. The house is strong, and we could hold out here against a host, unless they were provided with cannon.

"I have money, and you had better buy up as much food as possible, so that we could stand a siege for some time. I shall give my horse a good feed and an hour's rest, and then send my man down to the General, telling him that the Dervishes have deserted the town, and that we have taken possession of the place, and can defend it for a long time should they return."

An hour later, Zaki started with Gregory's report. The inhabitants, finding that they would be paid, brought out their hidden stores; and by evening, enough was collected to last the garrison ten days.

Zaki returned at noon next day, with a letter from General Hunter to the sheik, praising him highly for the energy and courage of his men and himself. He also brought a note for Gregory, saying that he hoped to get the repairs finished the next day; and that he expected, by that time, the other two steamers would be up, when he should at once advance to Berber.

On the third day the smoke of the steamers was seen in the distance; and an hour later the gunboats arrived, and were greeted with cries of welcome by the natives, who thronged the bank. The three boats carried between three and four hundred men. These were disembarked on an island, opposite the town, and the gunboats moored alongside.

General Hunter at once landed, with those of his staff who had accompanied him. He shook hands, very cordially, with the sheik.

"You have done well, indeed!" he said. "It was a dangerous enterprise and, had I not known your courage, and that of your men, I should not have ventured to send you forward. You have fully justified my confidence in you.

"In the first place, I will go and see the house you have occupied. I shall leave you still in possession of it, but I do not intend that you should hold it. In case Mahmud comes down upon you, at once embark in boats, and cross to the islands. It will be some time before I can gather, here, a force strong enough to hold the town against attack. Indeed, it will probably be some weeks; for, until the railway is finished to Abu Hamed, I can only get up stores sufficient for the men here; certainly we have no transport that could keep up the supply for the whole force. However, all this will be settled by the Sirdar, who will very shortly be with us."

It was now the 6th of September and, the same afternoon, two gunboats were sent up to Ed Damer, an important position lying a mile or two beyond the junction of Atbara river with the Nile. On the opposite bank of the Nile, they found encamped the Dervishes who had retired from Berber. The guns opened fire upon them, and they retired inland; leaving behind them fourteen large boats, laden with grain. These were at once sent down to Berber, where they were most welcome; and a portion of the grain was distributed among the almost starving population, nearly five thousand in number, principally women and children.

Supplies soon began to arrive from below, being brought up in native craft, from Abu Hamed, as far as the cataract; then unloaded and carried up past the rapids on camels; then again placed in boats, and so brought to Berber. Macdonald's brigade started a fortnight after the occupation, their place at Abu Hamed having been taken by a brigade from Kassinger, each battalion having towed up boats carrying two months' supply of provisions.

A fort was now erected at the junction of the two rivers, and occupied by a small force, under an English officer. Two small steamers were employed in towing the native craft from Abu Hamed to Berber. Still, it was evident that it would be impossible to accumulate the necessary stores for the whole force that would take the field; accordingly, as soon as the railway reached Abu Hamed, the Sirdar ordered it to be carried on as far as Berber. He himself came up with Colonel Wingate, the head of the Intelligence Department; and, diligently as all had worked before, their exertions were now redoubled.

On the morning after the Sirdar's arrival, an orderly came across to General Hunter's quarters, with a request that Mr. Hilliard should at once be sent to headquarters. Gregory had to wait nearly half an hour, until the officers who had been there before him had had their audience, and received their orders. He was then shown in.

"You have done very valuable service, Mr. Hilliard," the Sirdar said. "Exceptionally valuable, and obtained at extraordinary risk. I certainly did not expect, when I saw you a few months ago in Cairo, that you would so speedily distinguish yourself. I was then struck with your manner, and thought that you would do well, and you have much more than fulfilled my expectations. I shall keep my eye upon you, and shall see that you have every opportunity of continuing as you have begun."

That evening, General Hunter suggested to Colonel Wingate that Gregory should be handed over to him.

"There will be nothing for him to do with me, at present," he said; "and I am sure that you will find him very useful. Putting aside the expedition he undertook to Metemmeh, he is a most zealous young officer. Although his wound was scarcely healed, he took charge of the baggage animals on the way up from Merawi to Abu Hamed, and came forward here with Ahmed Bey and his followers, and in both cases he was most useful. But at the present, I cannot find any employment for him."

"I will have a talk with him," Colonel Wingate said. "I think I can make good use of him. Captain Keppel asked me, this morning, if I could furnish him with a good interpreter. He is going up the river in a day or two, and as neither he nor the other naval officers know much Arabic, Mr. Hilliard would be of considerable service to them, in questioning any prisoners who may be captured as to hidden guns, or other matters. I should think, from what you tell me, Mr. Hilliard will be very suitable for the post."

"The very man for it. He is a very pleasant lad—for he is not more than that—quiet and gentlemanly, and yet full of life and go, and will be certain to get on well with a naval man."

On returning to his quarters, General Hunter sent for Gregory.

"You will please go to Colonel Wingate, Mr. Hilliard. I have been speaking to him about you; and, as it may be months before things are ready for the final advance, and I am sure you would prefer to be actively employed, I proposed to him that he should utilize your services; and it happens, fortunately, that he is able to do so. The gunboats will be running up and down the river, stirring up the Dervishes at Metemmeh and other places; and as neither Keppel, nor the commanders of the other two boats can speak Arabic with anything like fluency, it is important that he should have an interpreter.

"I think you will find the berth a pleasant one. Of course, I don't know what arrangements will be made, or whether you would permanently live on board one of the boats. If so, I think you would be envied by all of us, as you would get away from the dust, and all the discomforts of the encampment."

"Thank you very much, sir! It would indeed be pleasant, and I was beginning to feel that I was very useless here."

"You have not been useless at all, Mr. Hilliard. The Sirdar asked me about you, and I was able to give him a very favourable report of your readiness to be of service, for whatever work I have found for you to do. I have told him that I had great doubts whether Ahmed Bey would have pushed forward to this place, after he had lost the protection of the gunboats, if you had not been with him."

Gregory at once went to the quarters of Colonel Wingate, and sent in his name. In two or three minutes he was shown in. A naval officer was in the room with the colonel.

"You have come at the right time, Mr. Hilliard. I was just speaking of you to Captain Keppel. I suppose General Hunter has told you how I proposed utilizing your services?"

"Yes, sir, he was good enough to tell me."

"You speak both Arabic and the Negro dialect perfectly, I am told?"

"I speak them very fluently, almost as well as English."

"Just at present, you could not be of much use to me, Mr. Hilliard. Of course, I get all my intelligence from natives, and have no occasion to send white officers out as scouts. Otherwise, from the very favourable report that I have received from General Hunter, I should have been glad to have you with me; but I have no doubt that you would prefer to be in one of the gunboats. They are certain to have a more stirring time of it, for the next few weeks, than we shall have here."

"I should like it greatly, sir, if Captain Keppel thinks I shall do."

"I have no doubt about that," the officer said, with a smile. "I shall rate you as a first lieutenant and midshipman, all in one; and I may say that I shall be very glad to have a white officer with me. There are one or two spare cabins, aft, and you had better have your traps moved in, at once. I may be starting tomorrow."

"Shall I take my servant with me, sir?"

"Yes, you may take him if you like. I suppose you have a horse?"

"Yes, sir, a horse and a camel; but I shall have no difficulty in managing about them. Excuse my asking, sir, but I have a few stores. Shall I bring them on board?"

"No, there is no occasion for that. You will mess with me. Thank goodness, we left naval etiquette behind us when we came up the Nile, and it is not imperative that I should dine in solitary state. Besides, you have been on Hunter's staff, have you not?"

"Yes."

"I know his staff all mess together. I shall be very glad to have you with me. It is lonely work, always messing alone.

"My boat is the Zafir, you know. You had better come on board before eight o'clock, tomorrow morning. That is my breakfast hour."

Gregory needed but little time to make his arrangements. The transport department took over Zaki's horse and camel, and gave him a receipt for them; so that, when he returned, those or others could be handed over to him. One of the staff, who wanted a second horse, was glad to take charge of his mount. The tent, and the big case, and his other belongings were handed over to the stores.

Zaki was delighted, when he heard that he was going up in a gunboat that would probably shell Metemmeh, and knock some of the Dervish fortifications to pieces.

"What shall I have to do, master?" he asked.

"Not much, Zaki. You will brush my clothes, and make my bed, and do anything that I want done; but beyond that I cannot tell you. I am really taking you, not because I think you will be of much use, but because I like to have you with me. Besides, I sha'n't have much to do, and the English officer who commands will have plenty to look after, so that I shall be glad to talk, occasionally, with you.

"However, as I know the gunboats carry Maxim guns, and each have two sergeants of the marine artillery, I will hand you over to them, and ask them to put you in the Maxim crew. Then you will have the satisfaction of helping to fire at your old enemies."

Zaki's eyes glistened at the prospect.

"They killed my mother," he said, "and carried off my sisters, and burned our house. It will be good to fire at them. Much better this, bey, than to load stores at Merawi."

Gregory was much gratified, that evening after mess, at the kindly manner in which the members of the staff all shook hands with him, and said that they were sorry that he was going to leave them. General Hunter was dining with the Sirdar. The next morning, when Gregory went to say "Goodbye" to him, he said:

"I was telling Sir Herbert Kitchener, yesterday evening, that you were transferred to the naval branch. He said:

"'The gunboats will all take up troops, and there will be native officers on board. It is a rule in our army, you know, that all white officers have the honorary rank of major, so as to make them senior to all Egyptian officers. Will you tell Mr. Hilliard that I authorize him to call himself Bimbashi? There is no occasion to put it in orders. My authorization is sufficient. As long as he was on your staff it did not matter; but as, presently, he may be attached to an Egyptian regiment, it is as well that he should bear the usual rank, and it may save misunderstanding in communicating with the natives. He will be much more respected, as Bimbashi, than he would be as lieutenant, a title that they would not understand.'

"A good many lieutenants in the British Army are Bimbashis, here, so that there is nothing unusual in your holding that honorary rank."

"I would just as soon be lieutenant, sir, so far as I am concerned myself; but of course, I feel honoured at receiving the title. No doubt it would be much more pleasant, if I were attached to an Egyptian regiment. I do not know whether it is the proper thing to thank the Sirdar. If it is, I shall be greatly obliged if you will convey my thanks to him."

"I will tell him that you are greatly gratified, Hilliard. I have no doubt you owe it, not only to your ride to Metemmeh, but to my report that I did not think Ahmed Bey would have ventured to ride on into Berber, had you not been with him; and that you advised him as to the defensive position he took up here, and prepared for a stout defence, until the boats could come up to his assistance. He said as much to me."

At the hour named, Gregory went on board the Zafir; Zaki accompanying him, with his small portmanteau and blanket.

"I see you are punctual, Mr. Hilliard," the commander said, cheerily; "a great virtue everywhere, but especially on board ship, where everything goes by clockwork. Eight bells will sound in two minutes, and as they do so, my black fellow will come up and announce the meal. It is your breakfast, as much as mine; for I have shipped you on the books this morning, and of course you will be rationed. Happily, we are not confined to that fare. I knew what it was going to be, and laid in a good stock of stores. Fortunately, we have the advantage over the military, that we are not limited as to baggage."

The breakfast was an excellent one. After it was over, Commander Keppel asked Gregory how it was that he had—while still so young—obtained a commission, and expressed much interest when he had heard his story.

"Then you do not intend to remain in the Egyptian Army?" he said. "If you have not any fixed career before you, I should have thought that you could not do better. The Sirdar and General Hunter have both taken a great interest in you. It might be necessary, perhaps, for you to enter the British Army and serve for two or three years, so as to get a knowledge of drill and discipline; then, from your acquaintance with the languages here you could, of course, get transferred to the Egyptian Army, where you would rank as a major, at once."

"I have hardly thought of the future yet, sir; but of course, I shall have to do so, as soon as I am absolutely convinced of my father's death. Really, I have no hope now; but I promised my mother to do everything in my power to ascertain it, for a certainty. She placed a packet in my hands, which was not to be opened until I had so satisfied myself. I do not know what it contains, but I believe it relates to my father's family.

"I do not see that that can make any difference to me, for I certainly should not care to go home to see relations to whom my coming might be unwelcome. I should greatly prefer to stay out here, for a few years, until I had obtained such a position as would make me absolutely independent of them."

"I can quite understand that," Captain Keppel said. "Poor relations seldom get a warm welcome, and as you were born in Alexandria, they may be altogether unaware of your existence. You have certainly been extremely fortunate, so far; and if you preferred a civil appointment, you would be pretty certain of getting one when the war is over.

"There will be a big job in organizing this country, after the Dervishes are smashed up; and a biggish staff of officials will be wanted. No doubt most of these will be Egyptians, but Egyptian officials want looking after, so that a good many berths must be filled by Englishmen; and Englishmen with a knowledge of Arabic and the Negro dialect are not very easily found. I should say that there will be excellent openings, for young men of capacity."

"I have no doubt there will," Gregory said. "I have really never thought much about the future. My attention, from childhood, has been fixed upon this journey to the Soudan; and I never looked beyond it, nor did my mother discuss the future with me. Doubtless she would have done so, had she lived; and these papers I have may give me her advice and opinion about it."

"Well, I must be going on deck," Captain Keppel said. "We shall start in half an hour."

The three gunboats were all of the same design. They were flat bottomed, so as to draw as little water as possible; and had been built and sent out, in sections, from England. They were constructed entirely of steel, and had three decks, the lower one having loophole shutters for infantry fire. On the upper deck, which was extended over the whole length of the boat, was a conning tower. In the after portion of the boat, and beneath the upper deck, were cabins for officers. Each boat carried a twelve-pounder quick-firing gun forward, a howitzer, and four Maxims. The craft were a hundred and thirty-five feet long, with a beam of twenty-four feet, and drew only three feet and a half of water. They were propelled by a stern wheel.

At half-past nine the Zafir's whistle gave the signal, and she and her consorts—the Nazie and Fatteh—cast off their warps, and steamed out into the river. Each boat had on board two European engineers, fifty men of the 9th Soudanese, two sergeants of royal marine artillery, and a small native crew.

"I expect that we shall not make many more trips down to Berber," the Commander said, when they were once fairly off. "The camp at Atbara will be our headquarters, unless indeed Mahmud advances; in which case, of course, we shall be recalled. Until then we shall be patrolling the river up to Metemmeh; and making, I hope, an occasional rush as far as the next cataract."

When evening came on, the steamer tied up to an island, a few miles north of Shendy. So far they had seen no hostile parties—indeed, the country was wholly deserted.

Next morning they started before daybreak. Shendy seemed to be in ruins. Two Arabs, only, were seen on the bank. A few shots were fired into the town, but there was no reply.

Half an hour later, Metemmeh was seen. It stood half a mile from the river. Along the bank were seven mud forts, with extremely thick and solid walls. Keeping near the opposite bank, the gunboats, led by the Zafir, made their way up the river. Dervish horsemen could be seen, riding from fort to fort, doubtless carrying orders.

The river was some four thousand yards wide and, at this distance, the gunboats opened fire at the two nearest forts. The range was soon obtained to a nicety, and the white sergeants and native gunners made splendid practice, every shell bursting upon the forts, while the Maxims speedily sent the Dervish horsemen galloping off to the distant hills, on which could be made out a large camp.

The Dervish gunners replied promptly, but the range was too great for their old brass guns. Most of the shot fell short, though a few, fired at a great elevation, fell beyond the boats. One shell, however, struck the Zafir, passing through the deck and killing a Soudanese; and a shrapnel shell burst over the Fatteh.

After an hour's fire, at this range, the gunboats moved up opposite the position; and again opened fire with shell and shrapnel, committing terrible havoc on the forts, whose fire presently slackened suddenly. This was explained by the fact that, as the gunboats passed up, they saw that the embrasures of the forts only commanded the approach from the north; and that, once past them, the enemy were unable to bring a gun to bear upon the boats. Doubtless the Dervishes had considered it was impossible for any steamer to pass up, under their fire; and that it was therefore unnecessary to widen the embrasures, so that the guns could fire upon them when facing the forts, or going beyond them.

Suddenly, as all on board were watching the effect of their fire, an outburst of musketry broke out from the bushes that lined the eastern bank, a hundred yards away. Fortunately, the greater part of the bullets flew overhead, but many rattled against the side. The Maxims were instantly turned upon the unseen enemy, the Soudanese fired volleys, and their rash assailants went at once into the thicker bush, many dropping before they gained it.

The gunboats now steamed slowly up the river; and then, turning, retired downstream again, shelling the enemy's position as they passed. As they were going down they came upon a number of Dervishes, who were busy unloading half a dozen native craft. The Maxim soon sent them flying; and the boats, which contained horses, donkeys, grain, and other goods, were taken in tow by the gunboats, which anchored at the same island as on the previous night.

"Well, Bimbashi," Captain Keppel said, when the work for the day was over, "so you have had your first brush with the enemy. What do you think of it?"

"I would rather that you did not call me Bimbashi, Captain Keppel. The title is ridiculous for me, and it was only given me that it might be useful when with Egyptian or Soudanese soldiers. I should feel really obliged, if you would simply call me Hilliard.

"I felt all right, sir, during the fight; except that I envied the gunners, who were doing something, while I had nothing to do but look on. It certainly made me jump, when that shell struck the boat, because I had quite made up my mind that their guns would not carry so far, and so it was a complete surprise to me."

"Yes, it was a very harmless affair. Still, it was good as a preparation for something more severe. You have got accustomed to the noise, now, and that is always as great a trial to the nerves as actual danger."

"I wish I could be doing something, sir. Everyone else had some duty, from yourself down to the black firemen—even my servant made himself useful, in carrying up shot."

"I tell you what I will do, Mr. Hilliard. I will get those marine sergeants to instruct you in the working of the Maxim, and in the duties of the men attending on it. Then next time we come up, I will put you in command of one of them. Your duties will not be severe, as you would simply direct the men as to the object at which they are to aim, watch the effect and direction of the bullets, and see that they change their aim, as circumstances may direct. The black gunners are well trained, and know their work; still, if by any chance the gun jams, it will be useful for you to be able to show them what to do; even though they know it as well as, or better than, you do yourself. The blacks like being commanded by a white officer, and will feel pleased, rather than otherwise, at your being appointed to command their gun. Your lessons cannot begin for a day or two, for I have not done with Metemmeh, yet."

"I am very much obliged to you, indeed," Gregory said warmly. "I will take care not to interfere with the men's working of the gun."

"No, you will not have to do that; but a word or two of commendation, when they make good practice, pleases them immensely; and they will work all the better, and faster, for your standing by them."

At daybreak next morning the gunboats went up again, and engaged the forts, as before. The Dervishes had placed more guns in position, but again the shells fell short, while those of the boats played havoc with the enemy's defences. Some ten thousand of the Dervish horse and foot came down near the town, in readiness to repel any attempt at a landing.

After some hours' bombardment, the gunboats retired. As they steamed away, the Dervish host were shouting and waving their banners, evidently considering that they had won a great victory.

Having fulfilled their object, which was to retain Mahmud at Metemmeh by showing him that, if he advanced against Merawi and Dongola, we had it in our power to occupy the town; and so cut off his retreat, and prevent reinforcements or stores from reaching him from Omdurman, the gunboats returned to Berber.

So far, Gregory had had no duties to perform in his capacity of interpreter, for no prisoners had been taken. On the way down the river, one of the artillery sergeants explained the working of the Maxim to him, taking the weapon to pieces, and explaining to him how each part acted, and then showing him how to put it together again. The sergeant having done this several times, Gregory was then told to perform the operation himself, and the lessons continued after their arrival at Berber.

In the course of a week he was able to do this smartly; and had learned, in case of a breakdown, which parts of the mechanism would most probably have given way, and how to replace broken parts by spare ones, carried up for the purpose.

There was no long rest at Berber, and on the 1st of November the gunboats again went up the river, reinforced by the Metemmeh, which had now arrived. Each boat, as before, carried fifty soldiers; and Major Stuart-Wortley went up, as staff officer. The evening before starting, they received the welcome news that the railway line had, that day, reached Abu Hamed.

This time there was but a short pause made opposite Metemmeh, and after shelling the forts, which had been added to since the last visit, they proceeded up the river. Shortly after passing the town, a large Dervish camp was seen in a valley, and this, they afterwards found, was occupied by the force that had returned from Berber. A heavy fire of shell and shrapnel was opened upon it, and it was speedily destroyed.

The gunboats then went up as high as the sixth cataract. The country was found to be absolutely deserted, neither a peasant nor a Dervish being visible. Having thus accomplished the object of their reconnaissance, the flotilla returned, exchanged fire with the Metemmeh batteries, and then kept on their way down to Berber.



Chapter 11: A Prisoner.

Rather than remain unoccupied on board the gunboat, Gregory went to Colonel Wingate's headquarters and said that he should be very glad if he would allow him, while the flotilla remained at Berber, to assist in interrogating the fugitives who arrived from the south, and the spies employed to gain early information of the intentions and movements of the enemy. The position of the Dervishes at Metemmeh was becoming critical. The Khalifa was desirous that Mahmud should return with his force to Omdurman, there to take part in the battle in which, as he was convinced, the invaders would be annihilated. Mahmud, who was of an eager and impetuous disposition, was anxious to take the offensive at once, and either to march upon Merawi and Dongola, or to drive the British out of Berber.

There could be no doubt that his view was a more sagacious one than that of his father; and that the best tactics to be adopted were to harass the British advance, fall upon their convoys, cut their communications, and so oblige them to fall back for want of supplies. The Khalifa's mistake was similar to that made by Theodore in Abyssinia, and Koffee Kalkalli in Ashanti. Had either of these leaders adopted the system of harassing the invaders, from the moment they left the coast, it would have been next to impossible for the latter to arrive at their destination. But each allowed them to march on, unmolested, until within striking distance; then hazarded everything on the fortune of a single battle, and lost.

Mahmud made no movement in obedience to the Khalifa's orders to retire to Omdurman, and the latter thereupon refused to send any further supplies to him, and Mahmud's army was therefore obliged to rely upon raids and plunder for subsistence. These raids were carried out with great boldness, and villages situated within a few miles of Berber were attacked. The Dervishes, however, met with a much warmer reception than they had expected, for rifles and ammunition had been served out freely to the villagers; and these, knowing the fate that awaited them were the Dervishes victorious, offered so obstinate a resistance that the latter fell back, discomfited.

Early in January, the Sirdar learned that the Khalifa had changed his mind, and had sent peremptory orders to Mahmud to advance and drive the British out of Berber, and destroy the railway. Mahmud had now been joined by Osman Digna, with five thousand men; and as the Egyptian troops, well as they had fought, had never yet been opposed to so formidable a force as that which Mahmud commanded, the Sirdar telegraphed to England for white troops.

His request was at once complied with. The Warwickshires, Lincolnshires, and Cameron Highlanders were ordered to proceed from Cairo and Alexandria to the front; and the Seaforth Highlanders at Malta, and the Northumberland Fusiliers at Gibraltar were also despatched, without delay. Major General Gatacre was appointed to the command of the brigade.

At the end of the third week in January, the three regiments from Lower Egypt had arrived at Wady Halfa, and the Seaforths at Assouan. At the beginning of February the British brigade was carried, by railway, to Abu Dis. Here they remained until the 26th, when they marched to Berber, and then to a camp ten miles north of the Atbara, where they arrived on the 4th of March, having covered a hundred and forty-four miles in six days and a half, a great feat in such a climate.

Mahmud had made no movement until the 10th of February, when he began to cross the Nile to Shendy. This movement had not been expected by the Sirdar, and was hailed by him with satisfaction. Had Mahmud remained at Metemmeh he could, aided by the forts, his artillery, and the walled town, have offered a very formidable resistance. Had he marched along the banks of the Nile, he would have been exposed to the fire of the gunboats, but these could not have arrested his course. The country round Berber was favourable to the action of his cavalry, and if defeated he could have fallen back, unmolested, through Metemmeh on Omdurman; but by crossing the river he practically cut himself off from the Dervish base, and now had only a desert behind him; for we had taken over Kassala from the Italians, and the Egyptian battalion there, and a large force of friendly Arabs, would prevent him from retiring up the banks of the Atbara.

Mahmud's plan was to march along the Nile to Ahab, then to cross the desert to Hudi, at an angle of the river; whence a direct march, of twenty-five miles, would take him to Berber, and in this way he would avoid our strong position at the junction of the Atbara and the Nile. It would have been easy for the gunboats to prevent Mahmud from crossing the Nile, but the Sirdar was glad to allow him to do so. The movement afforded him time to concentrate his force, and to get up large supplies. For, each day, the distance that these could be transported by the railway had increased; and he saw that, when the time for fighting came, the victory would be a decisive one; and that few, indeed, of Mahmud's men would ever be able to make their way to Omdurman, and swell the Khalifa's force there.

On one occasion, however, the gunboats went up to watch what was going on, and take advantage of any opportunity that might offer to destroy some of Mahmud's boats, and thus render the work of his getting his force over slower and more difficult. An entrenchment had been thrown up at the point where the Dervishes crossed, and this had been manned by two hundred and fifty riflemen. The Zafir steamed up close to the bank and opened fire with her Maxims. Another gunboat sank one large craft and captured two others, and the troops landed and, covered by the fire of the guns, captured a fourth which had grounded in shallow water.

A smaller boat was halfway across the river when the gunboats arrived. It was seen that there were several women on board, and as the capture would have been of no value, no regard was paid to it. As it would have been as dangerous to return as to keep on, the boatmen plied their hardest to get across, but the stream carried them down near the Zafir. The boat was quite unnoticed, all eyes being intent upon the shore. She was passing about thirty yards astern of the gunboat, when a badly aimed shell from a Dervish battery struck her, and she sank almost instantly.

Gregory, who was superintending the working of the Maxim nearest the stern, looked round at the sound of the explosion. Several of the occupants had evidently been killed, but two or three of the boatmen started to swim to shore. Only two of the women came to the surface, struggling wildly and screaming for help. With scarcely a thought of what he was doing, Gregory unclasped his sword belt, dropped his pistol, and sprang overboard.

One of the women had sunk before he reached them, the other was on the point of doing so, when he caught her by the arm. She at once clung to him, and he had hard work to disengage her arm from his neck; then, after turning her so that her face was above water, he looked round. The gunboat was already a hundred yards away. Her wheel was revolving, so as to keep her in her place facing the redoubt, and the stream was driving him fast away from her.

Within ten yards of him was a black head, and a moment later Zaki was beside him. He had been working at Gregory's Maxim, and had suddenly missed his master. Looking round, he had seen him struggling with the woman in the stream, and without hesitation had leapt overboard.

"I am sorry you came," Gregory said, "for it is only throwing away your life. It is of no use shouting, for they could not hear us in that din; and if they happened to catch sight of us, would take us for two of the black boatmen. I see the stream is taking us nearer to the bank."

Zaki had taken hold of the woman while he was speaking.

"We might swim a long way down, master, if we let go of her."

"I won't do that, Zaki. I know now that I was a fool to jump overboard; but now that I have done so, I will save her life. Besides, I could not swim very far even without her. I am feeling the weight of my boots and clothes.

"Will you swim with us till I can touch the ground, and then leave us? Strike right into the river again—I know that you are a good swimmer—and drop down the stream until you reach one of the islands, and then you can land and hail the gunboats as they come down. Tell Captain Keppel why I jumped over."

"I am not going to leave you, master. No doubt the Dervishes will shoot me, but my life is of no consequence, and I shall be glad to die by the side of so good a master."

The woman, who had ceased to struggle when Gregory shook off her grasp, was now conscious; as, with one of them supporting her on each side, her head was above water.

"They will not kill you," she said. "You have saved me, and they will be grateful."

Gregory had no faith whatever in Dervish gratitude.

"Well, Zaki," he said, "if you will not leave us, we will strike at once for the shore. The gunboats are nearly half a mile away now. There is just a chance that we may not have been noticed by the Dervishes, and may be able to hide in the bushes till the gunboats return. When they see me, they will at once send a boat ashore, under cover of their fire, and take us off."

"There is a good chance of that, master," Zaki said cheerfully, "and the Dervishes are busy up there fighting, and will not think much of a little boat."

Three or four minutes later they were in shallow water. As soon as they landed, Gregory threw himself down, utterly exhausted; and the woman sank down beside him, but not before hastily rearranging her veil. In a couple of minutes, Gregory roused himself.

"I can climb the bank, now," he said, "and the sooner we are hidden among the bushes, the better."

But as he spoke he heard the sound of galloping horsemen, and almost immediately an Emir, on a magnificent animal, followed by a dozen Dervishes, dashed up.

"Mahmud!" the woman cried, as she rose to her feet; "it is I, Fatma!"

Mahmud gave a cry of joy, and waved his hand to his followers, who had already pointed their rifles at Gregory.

"These have saved me, my lord," the woman went on. "They jumped from their boat, and reached me just as I was sinking, and have borne me up. For my sake you must spare their lives."

Mahmud frowned. He dismounted and went up to his wife.

"Have I not sworn, Fatma," he said, "that I would slay every unbeliever who falls into my hands? How, then, can I spare even one who has saved your life?"

"Others have been spared who have been of service, my lord," she said. "There are Greeks and Egyptians who work your guns, and they were spared because they were useful. There is Neufeld, who lives under the protection of the Khalifa. Surely these men have done far more to deserve, not only life, but honour at your hands. They risked their lives to save mine. What follower of the Prophet could do more? They could not have known who I was, a woman they saw drowning. Are there any among the bravest of the tribes who would have done the same?"

"I have sworn an oath," Mahmud said, gloomily.

"But you have not sworn to slay instantly. You can keep them, at least, until you can take them before the Khalifa, and say to him:

"'Father, I have sworn to kill unbelievers, but these men have saved Fatma's life; and I pray you to absolve me from the oath, or order them to be taken from me, and then do you yourself pardon them and set them free for the service that they have rendered me.'

"If he refuses, if these men are killed, I also swear that, as my life is due to them, I myself will perish by my own hands, if they die for saving it!"

"It needs not that, Fatma. You think that I am ungrateful, that I do not feel that these men have acted nobly, thus to risk their lives to save a strange woman whose face they have never seen. It is my oath that lies heavily upon me. I have never been false to an oath."

"Nor need you be now," Fatma said earnestly. "You swore to slay any unbeliever that fell into your hands. This man has not fallen into your hands. I have a previous claim to him. He is under my protection. I cover him with my robe"—and she swept a portion of her garment round Gregory—"and as long as he is under it he is, according to tribal laws, safe even from the vengeance of my husband!

"As to the other, he is not an unbeliever. Your oath concerns him not. Him you can honour and reward, according to the value you place upon my life."

The Arab's face cleared.

"Truly you have discovered a way out of it, Fatma, at any rate for the present."

He turned to Gregory for the first time.

"Do you speak our tongue?" he asked.

"Yes, Emir, as well as my own."

"Then you understand what we have said. Had I not been bound by my oath, I would have embraced you as a brother. We Arabs can appreciate a brave deed, even when it is done by an enemy. When one of the boatmen ran into the battery where I was directing the guns against your boat, and said that the boat in which my wife, with other women, were crossing had been sunk, by a shell from our batteries on the other side, I felt that my blood was turned to water. He said he believed that all had been killed or drowned, but that he looked back as he swam, and saw a white man jump overboard, and a short time after another followed him; and that, when he reached the shore, they were supporting a woman in the water.

"I rode hither, having but small hope indeed that it was my wife, but marvelling much that a white officer should thus risk his life to save a drowning woman. My oath pressed heavily upon me, as I rode. Even had it been but a slave girl whom you rescued, I should no less have admired your courage. I myself am said to be brave, but it would never have entered my mind thus to risk my life for a stranger. When I found that it was my wife who was saved, I still more bitterly regretted the oath that stood between me and her preserver, and truly glad am I that she has herself shown me how I can escape from its consequences.

"Now I see you, I wonder even more than before at what you have done; for indeed, in years, you are little more than a boy."

"What I did, Emir, I believe any white officer who was a good swimmer would have done. No Englishman would see a woman drowning without making an effort to save her, if he had it in his power. As to the fact that she was not of the same race or religion, he would never give it a thought. It would be quite enough for him that she was a woman."

"And you," Mahmud said, turning to Zaki, "you are a Jaalin, are you not?"

"I am."

"Jaalin or Baggara, you are my friend," Mahmud said, placing his hand on Zaki's shoulders. "And so you, too, leapt overboard to save a woman?"

"No, Emir," he replied, "I jumped over because my master jumped over. I had not thought about the woman. I jumped over to aid him, and it was to give him my help that I took my share in supporting the woman. The Bimbashi is a good master, and I would die for him."

Mahmud smiled at this frank answer.

"Nevertheless, whatever may have been your motive, you were enabled to save the life of my wife, and henceforth you are my friend."

Then he turned to the horsemen, who were still grouped on the bank above.

"You have heard what has been said? The white man is under the protection of my harem; the Jaalin is henceforth my friend."

Mahmud was a fine specimen of the tribesmen of the Soudan—tall, well built, and with pure Arab features. He was the Khalifa's favourite son; and was generous, with kindly impulses, but impatient of control. Of late, he had given way to outbursts of passion, feeling acutely the position in which he was placed. He had advanced from Omdurman confident that he should be able to drive the infidels before him, and carry his arms far into Egypt. His aspirations had been thwarted by the Khalifa. His requests for stores and camels that would have enabled him to advance had been refused, and he had been ordered to fall back. His troops had been rendered almost mutinous, from the want of supplies.

He had seen the invaders growing stronger and stronger, and accomplishing what had seemed an impossibility—the bringing up of stores sufficient for their sustenance—by pushing the railroad forward towards Berber. Now that their forces had been very greatly increased, and the issue of the struggle had become doubtful, he had received the order for which he had been craving for months; and had been directed to march down and attack the Egyptian army, drive them across the Nile, and destroy the railway.

By means of spies he had heard that, ere long, a large force of British soldiers would come up to reinforce the Egyptians; so that what might have been easy work, two months before, had now become a difficult and dangerous enterprise. The manner in which the Dervishes had been defeated in their attacks upon Wolseley's desert column, and in the engagements that had since taken place, showed how formidable was the fighting power, not only of the British troops, but of the native army they had organized; and his confidence in the power of the tribesmen to sweep all before them had been shaken.

The Dervishes scowled, when they heard that they were not to have the satisfaction of massacring this Englishman, whose countrymen were still keeping up a terrible fire on their redoubt. It was not one of their wives who had been rescued, and Gregory's act of jumping overboard seemed to them to savour of madness; and if that plea had been advanced, they would have recognized it as rendering the person of the man who had performed it inviolable. However, as he was under the protection of their leader's harem, there was nothing more to be said; and at an order from Mahmud all but four of them rode off, while the others fell in behind him.

Mahmud did not mount again, but walked with his wife to a deserted mud hut, two hundred yards away. There he left her, telling Gregory and Zaki to sit down outside, and placing the four men on guard.

"I must rejoin my men," he said, as he mounted. "When your vessels have gone, I will return."

Half an hour later, the fire ceased. Soon afterwards Mahmud rode up with a score of men, followed by some dozen women, and a slave leading a donkey. On this Fatma took her seat, and the women surrounded her. Gregory and Zaki walked close behind them. Mahmud, with his horsemen, rode in front.

After proceeding for a mile, they came upon a group of tents. Mahmud's banner was flying on a pole in front of the largest of these. Behind, and touching it, was another almost as large. This was the abode of the ladies of Mahmud's harem. The other tents were occupied by his principal Emirs. A hundred yards away was the encampment of the army, which was sheltered in hastily constructed huts, or arbours, made of bushes.

By Mahmud's order, a small tent was erected, with blankets, close to the after entrance into the harem tent, for Gregory's use; so that, should he be attacked by fanatics, he could at once take refuge in the harem, whose sanctity not even the most daring would dare to violate.

A handsome robe was brought for Zaki; and as Mahmud presented it to him, he said:

"You are my friend, but you must now go back to your vessels, or to Berber. My orders were to kill all the Jaalin, and we have spared none who fell into our hands, at Metemmeh or since. I cannot keep you here. As long as you stay by my side, you will be safe; but you could not leave me for a moment. It is as much as I can do to save the life of this infidel officer, and it is to him that I owe most, for it was he who first leapt into the river.

"The white men's boats have already fastened up, behind the island where they before stationed themselves. Make your way down there, at daybreak, and wave a white cloth. Doubtless they will send a boat ashore, thinking that you bear a message from me; or if you see they do not do this, you can swim out to them."

"I would rather stay with my master. Cannot you let him go, too?"

"That is impossible," Mahmud said shortly. "It is known throughout the camp that I have a white man here. The news will travel fast to the Khalifa. My actions have already been misrepresented to him, and were I to let this officer go, my father might recall me to Omdurman and send another to command here.

"He must stay, but you may go without harm. You can scarcely have been noticed yet, and I can well declare, should the Khalifa hear of you, that you have escaped."

"May I speak with my master?" Zaki said. "If he says stay, I shall stay, though it might cost me my life. If he says go, I must go."

"You may speak to him," Mahmud said.

Zaki went round to Gregory's tent, and told him what Mahmud had said.

"Go, certainly, Zaki. You can do me no good by remaining here, and might even do me harm; for if you were killed I also might be murdered. Moreover, I wish to send the news of my capture, and how it occurred. I do not think any, save yourself, noticed that I was missing; and when the fight was over, and they found that I was absent, they might suppose that I had been shot and had fallen overboard.

"I will write a note for you to carry. It is, in all respects, better that you should go. Were we to be seen talking together, it might be supposed that we were planning some way of escape, and I should be more closely watched. As it is, I see that Mahmud will have difficulty in protecting me. Were you to ride about with him, as he says, your presence would remind his followers that he has a white man a captive here; whereas, if I remain almost in concealment near the harem, the fact that there is a white man here will pass out of the minds of those who know it, and will not become the common talk of the camp.

"Mahmud is running some risk in having spared my life, and I do not wish to make it harder for him. Go, therefore, and tell him that you will leave tonight. I cannot write now; my pocketbook is soaked through. But I will tear out some leaves and dry them in the sun; and write what I have to say, before you start. I shall speak highly of you in my letter, and recommend you to Colonel Wingate; who will, I have no doubt, give you employment.

"I hope I shall see you again, before long. I am very sorry that we must part, but it is best for us both."

Very reluctantly, Zaki returned to Mahmud.

"My master says I must go, Emir; and I must obey his orders, though I would rather stay with him. Tonight, I will leave."

"It is well. I would that I could let him go, also, but my oath prevents me from giving him his freedom. I trust, however, that when the Khalifa hears of his noble action, and how he has made me his debtor, he will say that Allah himself would not blame me for that. Gratitude is even more binding than an oath.

"Still, until I hear from him, I can do nothing. We have not seen matters in the same light, for some time. When I wanted to strike, he was unwilling that I should do so. Now, when it seems to me that the time for that has passed, and that I had best retire on Omdurman, he says go forward and fight. It is not for me to question his commands, or his wisdom. But I may not give him cause for anger.

"My advice to you is, when you get to Berber, do not stay there. We shall assuredly be there before long, and as none would know that you were under my protection, you would be slain. Go straight to Abu Hamed; and when you hear that we have defeated the infidels, and have entered Berber, leave by this road they have made, upon which, as they tell me, carriages run without horses, and stay not until you reach Cairo.

"There you can live quietly, until you hear that the Khalifa's army is approaching. After that, fly. I cannot say whither, but seek a shelter until the black flag waves over the whole of the land. When there is no more fighting, then come to me and I will give you a post of honour."

"I will do so, Emir. When the time comes, I will remind you of your promise."

"I have neither silver nor gold with which I can reward you, now; but we shall gather these things in Egypt, and I will make you wealthy."

Zaki thought that it would be unwise to wander from Mahmud's encampment, and he accordingly sat down by his tent. Presently, one of the slaves came out, with a large dish of food that Mahmud had sent him. As evening approached, he went round to Gregory's little tent, with the intention of trying to persuade him to attempt to escape with him; but two of the tribesmen, with rifles in their hands, were stationed there. They offered no opposition to his entry, but their presence showed that Mahmud was determined that his master should appear to be a close prisoner; as, indeed, his escape might well jeopardize the Emir's position, even among his followers.

Gregory had a letter ready for him to carry to Captain Keppel. It ran as follows:

"Dear Captain Keppel,

"I am a prisoner in Mahmud's hands. This is the result of my own impetuosity—I will not say folly, for I cannot regret that I yielded to the sudden impulse that seized me. A boat containing some women was sunk by a shell, when but a few yards astern of the gunboat. Most of its occupants were killed, but I saw a woman struggling in the water and, without thinking of the consequences, jumped overboard to save her, my servant following me. When we reached her, we found that the current was too strong to regain the gunboat, and so landed about half a mile down, hoping to find shelter in the bushes until the boat came down the stream. What I did, however, had been observed by the Dervishes; and as soon as I landed a party rode up, headed by Mahmud himself, who was aware that his favourite wife was in the boat that had sunk.

"Most fortunately, it turned out that she was the woman I had saved. Upon her appeal Mahmud spared our lives. He has released my man, who will carry this to you; but, having sworn that he would spare no white man, he retains me in his hands as a prisoner, until he can lay the facts before the Khalifa and obtain his permission to let me go. I trust that all will be well, and that some day I may rejoin the army. However, there is no saying how matters may turn out.

"I am happy in knowing that there is no one who, if the worst comes to the worst, will grieve over my loss. I recommend my faithful servant to you. I should wish the balance of pay coming to me to be handed to him, as well as my camel and horse, and all other belongings. By the sale of these he would be able, at the end of the war, to buy a piece of land and settle down among his own people.

"Will you kindly report my capture to Colonel Wingate or General Hunter? Thanking you for your kindness to me, I remain,

"Yours faithfully,

"Gregory Hilliard.

"P. S. In my cabin is a tin box containing documents of importance to me. I shall be greatly obliged if you will take charge of these, until—as I hope will be the case—I rejoin you."

He handed the paper to Zaki, who took his hand and raised it to his forehead, with tears in his eyes.

"I go because you order me, master," he said, in a broken voice; "but I would a thousand times rather remain, and share your fate, whatever it might be."

Then he turned, and abruptly left the tent.

Twice that day, Gregory had received food from a female slave of the harem. Although he knew that he should miss Zaki greatly, he was very glad that he had been sent away; for he felt that, although for the time he had been reprieved, his position was very precarious, and that his servant's would have been still more so. A white prisoner was a personage of some consequence, but the death of a Jaalin was a matter that would disturb no one. Thousands of them had been massacred; and one, more or less, could not matter at all. But, however much the Dervishes might hate a white infidel, it would be a serious matter for even the most powerful Emir to harm a prisoner under the protection of the harem of the Khalifa's son.

Mahmud had been very popular among them, but his position had been gravely shaken by the events of the last six months. Having unlimited confidence in themselves; the Baggara had seen, with increasing fury, the unopposed advance of the Egyptians. They could not understand why they should not have been allowed, after the capture of Metemmeh, to march across the desert to Merawi, and annihilate the infidels assembled there. It was true that these had repulsed the force defending Dongola, but this was a comparatively small body; and it was the gunboats, and not the Egyptian troops, who had forced them to evacuate the town.

The fall of Abu Hamed had added to their discontent, and they were eager to march with all speed to Berber, to join the five thousand men comprising its garrison, and to drive the invaders back across the Nile.

But they had been kept inactive, by the orders of the Khalifa and by the want of stores. They had, for months, been suffering great privations; and while remaining in enforced inactivity, they had known that their enemy's strength was daily increasing; and that what could have been accomplished with the greatest of ease, in August, had now become a very serious business.

Mahmud had chafed at the situation in which he found himself placed, by his father's refusal to support him or to allow him to take any action. This had soured his temper, and he had taken to drinking heavily. He had become more harsh with his men, more severe in the punishment inflicted for any trifling disobedience of orders. Although no thought that the rule of the Khalifa could be seriously threatened entered their minds, fanatical as they were, they could not but feel some uneasiness at the prospect.

A great army was gathering at Berber. Kassala was in the hands of the British, and the forces that had been beleaguering it had been defeated, with heavy loss. Abyssinia had leagued itself against them. The insurrection of the Jaalin had been crushed, but there were signs of unrest in Kordofan, and other parts.

Of course, all this would be put right. An army of sixty thousand men was at Omdurman; and this, with Mahmud's command, would suffice to sweep away all their enemies. Their enthusiasm would never have wavered, had they been called upon for action; but these months of weary waiting, and of semi-starvation, without the acquisition of any booty or plunder—for little, indeed, had been obtained at the capture of Metemmeh—sapped their energy; and the force that crossed the Nile for an advance upon Berber was far less formidable than it would have been, had it been led forward against Merawi and Dongola directly after the capture of Metemmeh. Still, it needed only the prospect of a battle to restore its spirits.

A fortnight after Gregory's capture, the Dervish army was set in motion. A few thousand men had already been sent forward, along the banks of the river, to check any advance that might be made from Fort Atbara. Had it not been for this, Gregory might have attempted to escape. It would not have been very difficult for him to creep out at the back of his little tent, unperceived by his guards; but the dangers to be encountered in making his way to the British fort would have been immense.

It would have been necessary for him to keep by the river, for from this source alone could water be obtained. The country had been stripped of its crops, of all kinds, by the Dervishes; the villages had been razed to the ground; and the last head of maize, and other grain, gleaned by the starving people who had taken refuge in the bush and jungle.

Therefore, although by keeping near the river he could quench his thirst at will, he would assuredly have to face starvation. Moreover, he would have no chance of searching for any ears of corn which might have escaped the eyes of the searchers, for he must travel only by night and lie up by day, to avoid capture by one or other of the bands that had gone on; in which case he would at once be killed, being beyond the influence of Mahmud, and the protection of the harem.

On the other hand, he had nothing to complain of, except the monotony and uncertainty of his position. Fatma kept him well supplied with food; and, from the gossip of the slaves who brought this to him, he learnt how matters were progressing. He was longing for the Dervish army to make a move, for he felt that when they neared the British position, the greater would be the chance of escape; and none among the followers of Mahmud rejoiced more than he did, when he knew that the long-expected advance was about to take place.

Once in motion, the spirits of the Dervishes revived. At last they were going to meet these insolent invaders, and none doubted that they would easily defeat them. The greater portion of the harem and attendants were left behind, at Shendy, for but few camels were available. Fatma and another of Mahmud's wives rode on one. A tent was carried by another. Half a dozen slaves followed, and Gregory walked with these.

He could not help admiring the attitude of the tribesmen—tall, powerful men, inured to hardship, and walking or riding with an air of fierce independence, which showed their pride in themselves, and their confidence in their prowess.

The party always started early in the morning, so as to get the tents erected at the halting place before the main body of the Dervishes came up. On the march, they kept some distance from the river and, being but a small group, the gunboats did not waste their shot upon them; but each day there was a sharp exchange of fire between them and Mahmud's force.

Gregory supposed that Mahmud's plan was to cross the Atbara, which was fordable at several points, and to attack the fort there; in which case, he had no doubt the Arabs would be driven off, with much loss. The Sirdar was of the same opinion, and in order to tempt them to do so, he maintained only one Egyptian brigade in the fort, the remainder of the force being concentrated at Kennur, four miles away. From this point they would be able to advance and take the Dervishes in flank, while they were engaged in the attack of the fort.

Mahmud, however, was kept well informed of the movements of the troops, and instead of continuing his course down the river bank when he reached Gabati, he struck across the desert; and, after two days' march, crossed the Atbara at Nakheila. From this point, owing to the bend in the river, he would be able to march direct to Berber, avoiding the Atbara fort and the force gathered round it.

Altogether the desert march, although only lasting two days, was a trying one. The heat was overpowering, and even the ladies of the harem had the scantiest supply of water. They had, at starting, given Gregory a gourd of water for his own use. This he had taken sparingly, and it lasted him until they reached the Atbara.

It was now dead low water, and the river offered no obstacle to crossing, as the bed was for the most part dry, with pools here and there. The Arab encampment was formed in a thick grove of trees, which afforded some shelter from the sun.

Day after day passed. Mahmud was now informed as to the strength of the force he should have to encounter, and for the first time felt some doubt as to the issue of the fight. He determined, therefore, to stand on the defensive. This decision, however, he kept to himself. The Dervishes were burning to be led to the assault, and became almost mutinous, on account of the delay. Mahmud was obliged to take the strongest measures, and several of those who were loudest in their dissatisfaction were summarily executed. The rest were pacified with the assurance that he was only waiting for a fortunate day.

In the meantime, the men were employed in fortifying the position. Deep holes were dug along the edge of the wood, and behind these were trenches and pitfalls. Mahmud's own temper grew daily more sullen and fierce. His own fighting instinct was in favour of the attack his followers longed to deliver, but in his heart he was afraid that the result might be fatal. It was not the rifles of the infantry that he feared—of these he had no experience—but the artillery, which he had learned, already, could be used with terrible effect.

As Mahmud was drinking heavily, and as the fact that the white soldiers were near at hand added to the fanatical hatred of the emirs and tribesmen, Fatma sent a message by a slave to Gregory, warning him not to show himself outside the little shelter tent, composed of a single blanket, in which he now lived.

At length it became known that the English host was approaching. As soon as the gunboats brought down news that the Dervishes were no longer following the river bank, but were disappearing into the desert, the Sirdar guessed their intentions. Nothing could have suited him better. A battle now must be a decisive one. There was no way of retreat open to the Dervishes, except to cross the waterless desert; or to fly south, keeping to the course of the Atbara, which would take them farther and farther from the Nile with every mile they marched.

Bringing up all his force, therefore, from Kennur and the Atbara fort, which one battalion was left to guard, the Sirdar took up his post at Hudi. The position was well chosen. It lay halfway between Mahmud's camp at Nakheila and the Atbara fort, and left Mahmud only the option of attacking him; or of making a long detour, through the desert to the east, in order to reach Berber. The British, on the other hand, could receive their supplies by camels from the Atbara fort.

The cavalry went out to reconnoitre, and had constant skirmishes with the enemy's horse; but when day after day passed, and Mahmud did not come, as the Sirdar had expected, to attack him, it was determined to take the offensive. General Hunter was ordered to move forward, with the whole of the cavalry and a Maxim-gun battery, to discover the exact position of the enemy.

The camp had been well chosen; for, like Abu Hamed, it lay in a depression, and could not be seen until an enemy came within six hundred yards of it. Thus the superiority of range of the British rifles was neutralized, and their guns could not be brought into play until within reach of the Dervish muskets. The wood was surrounded by a high zareba, behind which a crowd of Dervishes were assembled. They had anticipated an attack, and held their fire until the cavalry should come nearer. This, however, General Hunter had no intention of doing, and he retired with the information he had gained. His account of the strength of the position showed the difficulty of taking it by assault.

Next day he again went out with the same force, but this time the Dervishes were prepared. Their mounted men dashed out from the wood, and galloped round to cut off the cavalry; while the footmen crowded out to attack them in front. The cavalry fell back in perfect order, and one squadron charged forty of the Dervish cavalry, who barred the line of retreat. These they drove off, but the main body still pressed forward, and the Maxims opened upon them. The hail of bullets was too much for the horsemen, and they drew off. Several times they gathered again for a charge, but on each occasion the Maxims dispersed them. The unmounted Dervishes were soon left behind, but the horsemen, in spite of the lesson they had received, followed almost to the camp.

On the afternoon of the 7th of April, the Anglo-Egyptian force marched out. They started at five in the afternoon, and halted at seven. The horses were first taken down to water, the infantry by half battalions; all then lay down to sleep. At one o'clock the word to advance was passed round quietly. The moon was full and high overhead, so there was no difficulty in avoiding obstacles. Each brigade marched in square, accompanied by the guns and the Maxims, and the camels with provisions and spare ammunition.

At four o'clock they halted again. They had been well guided, and were now but a short distance from the enemy's position. At sunrise the men were again on their feet, and advanced to within two hundred yards of the position from which they were to deliver their attack. The British brigade—the Camerons, Warwicks, Seaforths, and Lincolns—were on the left. Next to them came Macdonald's brigade—the three Soudanese regiments in front, the 2nd Egyptian in support. Farther still to the right, and touching the river, was Maxwell's brigade, comprising also three Soudanese regiments and an Egyptian one. Two of the three Egyptian battalions of Lewis's brigade were placed on the left rear of the British brigade, the third battalion was in square round the camels. Two field batteries were in front of the infantry, and two to the right of Maxwell's brigade.

Half a mile from the zareba the infantry halted, and the artillery and Maxims opened fire. For an hour a tremendous fire was poured into the enemy's position, but not a shot was fired in reply, although the Dervishes could be seen moving among the trees, apparently unconcerned at the storm of shell and bullets.

Gregory's position had been growing more critical every day. Food was extremely short; the scanty supplies that the force had brought with them had been long since exhausted, and they were now subsisting upon palm nuts. Of these, two were served out daily to each man, a quantity barely sufficient to keep life together. In spite of the vigilant watch kept by the more fanatical of Mahmud's followers, desertions had become frequent, notwithstanding the certain death that awaited those who were overtaken.

The evening after the cavalry made their first reconnaissance, the slave who brought Gregory's food told him that Fatma wished to speak to him. It was but three paces to the entrance of the tent, and his guards made no objection. The entrance was closed as the slave entered, but half a minute later it was opened an inch or two, and, without showing herself, Fatma said:

"Listen to me."

"I am listening," Gregory replied.

"I am in great fear for you. You are in much danger. The Emirs say to Mahmud that you ought to be killed; their followers are well-nigh starving—why should an infidel prisoner be eating? His friends are now close to us, and there will be a battle. None will be spared on either side—why should this man be spared?

"Mahmud has many cares. The men are furious because he will not lead them out to fight. Even the emirs are sullen; and Osman Digna, who was on bad terms with him a short time ago, and who, Mahmud suspects, is intriguing with them against him, is foremost in urging that an attack should take place; though everyone knows he is a coward, and never shows himself in battle, always running away directly he sees that things are going against him. Still, he has five thousand followers of his own.