G.A. Henty - With Kitchener in the Soudan - a story of Atbara and Omdurman

"A year ago,' one old sheik said,I was the father of eight

brave sons. Now they have all gone before me. Four of them fell in the assaults at El Obeid, two at Baria, and the last two have now been killed. I shall meet them all again in the abode of the blessed, and the sooner the better, for I have no one left to care for.' Others had tales of the loss of relations and friends, but I did not wait to listen further. Taking up a large water gourd that stood empty at the foot of one of the trees, I boldly walked to the well, descended the rough steps at the water's edge, and drank till I could drink no longer, and then, filling the gourd, went up again. No one noticed me. Had they looked at me they would have seen even in the darkness the great patches down the front of the robe, but I don't think anyone did notice me. Other figures were moving about from group to group, and I kept on through the grove until beyond the trees. I came out on the side opposite to that which I had entered, and, as I expected, found some of the Dervish horses grazing among the bushes.

"No guard was placed over them, as the}'' were too well trained to wander far. I went out to them and chose the poorest, which happened to be farther among the bushes than the others. I had thought the matter well over. If a good horse were taken, there would be furious pursuit as soon as it was missed, and this might be soon, for the Arabs are passionately fond of their favourite horses—more so than they are of their families. While I had been waiting at the edge of the wood more than one had come out to pat and fondle his horse and give it a handful of dates. But a poor animal would meet with no such attention, and the fact that he was missing was not likely to be discovered till daylight. Probably no great search would be made for it; the others would ride on, and its owner might spend some hours in looking about, thinking it had strayed away and was lying somewhere among the bushes.

" I had no thought of trying to return to Khartoum. The wells were far apart, and Dervish bands were certain to be moving along the line. It seemed to me that El Obeid was

the safest place to go to. True, it was in the hands of the Mahdists, but doubtless many wounded would be making their way there. Some doubtless would have wives and children, others might have come from distant villages, but these would all make for the town as the only place where they could find food, water, and shelter. Riding till morning I let the horse graze, and threw myself down among the bushes, intending to remain there until nightfall. In the afternoon, on waking from a long sleep, I sat up and saw a quarter of a mile away a Dervish making his way along on foot, slowly and painfully. This was the very chance I had hoped might occur. I got up at once and walked towards him. 'My friend is sorely wounded,' I said.

"'My journey is well-nigh ended,' he said. 'I had hoped to reach El Obeid, but I know that I shall not arrive at the well, which lies three miles away. I have already fallen three times; the next will be the last. Would that the bullet of the infidel had slain me on the spot!'

"The poor fellow spoke with difficulty, so parched were his lips and swollen his tongue. I went to the bush where I had left the gourd half-full of water. The man was still standing where I had left him, but when he saw the gourd in my hand he gave a little cry and tottered feebly towards me.

"' Let my friend drink,' I said. I held the gourd to his lips. 'Sip a little first,' I said; 'you can drink your fill afterwards.'

" 'Allah has sent you to save me,' he said; and after two or three gulps of water he drew back his head.Now I can rest till the sun has set, and then go forward as far as the well, and die there.'

'"Let me see your wound,' I said, 'it may be that I can relieve the pain a little.'

" He had been shot through the body, and it was a marvel to me how he could have walked so far; but the Arabs, like other wild creatures, have a wonderful tenacity of life. I aided him to the shelter of the thick bush, then I let him have

"TAKING THE BRIDLE I LED THE HORSE TOWARDS THE WELL'

another and longer drink, and bathed his wound with water. Tearing off a strip from the bottom of his robe, I bound it round him, soaking it with water over the wound. He had been suffering more from thirst than from pain, and he seemed stronger already. 'Now,' I said, 'you had better sleep.'

"' I have not slept since the last battle,' he said.I started as soon as it was dark enough for me to get up without being seen by the Turks. I have been walking ever since, and dared not lie down. At first I hoped that I might get to the town where my wife lived, and die in my own house. But that hope left me as I grew weaker and weaker, and I have only prayed for strength enough to reach the well, to drink, and to die there.'

"Sleep now,' I said.Be sure that I will not leave you. Is it not our duty to help one another? When the heat is over we may go on. I have a horse here which you shall ride. How far is it from the well to El Obeid?'

" It is four hours' journey on foot.'

" Good! Then you shall see your wife before morning. We will stop at the well to give my horse a good drink, and then, if you feel well enough to go on, we will not wait above an hour.'

" 'May Allah bless you!' the man said, and he then closed his eyes and at once went to sleep. I lay down beside him, but not to sleep. I was overjoyed with my good fortune. Now I could enter El Obeid boldly, and the wounded man being a native there, no questions would be asked me. I had a house to go to and shelter for the present. As to what might happen afterwards I did not care to think. Some way of escape would surely occur in time. Once my position as a Mahdist was fully established, I should be able to join any party going towards Khartoum, and should avoid all questioning; whereas if I were to journey alone I should be asked by every band I met where I came from, and might at any moment be detected if there happened to be any from the village I should name as my abode. It was all-important that this poor fellow should live until at least I had been with him two days in the town.

"From time to time I dipped a piece of rag in the gourd, squeezed a few drops of water between his lips, and then laid it on his forehead. When the sun began to get low I went out and caught the horse. As I came up the Dervish opened his eyes. 'I am better,' he said. 'You have restored me to life. My head is cool, and my lips no longer parched.'

"Now,' I said,I will lift you into the saddle. You had better ride with both legs on the same side, it will be better for your wound. There is a mound of earth a few yards away; if you will stand up on that I can lift you into the saddle easily. Now put your arms round my neck and I will lift you in the standing position; if you try to get up yourself your wound might easily break out again.'

"I managed better than I had expected, and, taking the bridle, led the horse towards the well.

"You must tell me the way,' I said,for I am a stranger in this part, having come from the Blue Nile.'

"'I know it perfectly,' he said, 'having been born in El Obeid. I fought against the Mahdists till we were starved out, and then as we all saw that the power of the Mahdi was great, and that Allah was with him, we did not hesitate to accept his terms and to put on his badges.'

"In less than an hour we saw the trees that marked the position of the well, and in another half-hour reached it. At least a score of wounded men were there, many of them so sorely hurt that they would get no farther. They paid little attention to us. One of them was known to Saleh—for the wounded man told me that that was his name—he also was from El Obeid. He was suffering from a terrible cut in the shoulder which had almost severed the arm. He told my man that it was given by one of the infidel officers before he fell. I thought it was as well to have two friends instead of one, and did what I could to bind his wound tip and fasten his arm firmly to his side. Then I said to him,My horse, after ihree hours' rest, will be able to carry you both. You can sit behind Saleh and hold him on with your unwounded arm.'