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 chances 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 gun-boats 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 Albara, 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 half-way 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 foot-men 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 everyday. 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.
