THE KHALIFA'S TREATMENT OF THE WHITE CAPTIVES.

Description of the prison, or "Saier"—The "Abu Haggar"—The imprisonment of Charles Neufeld—Terrible sufferings of the prisoners—Domenico Polinari—The danger of corresponding with the European prisoners—Neufeld threatened with death—He is given charge of the saltpetre pits—The fate of Sheikh Khalil, the Egyptian envoy—The Khalifa's treatment of the "Whites"—Exile to the White Nile.

In the preceding pages frequent reference has been made to the prison. This is an institution of so much importance in connection with Mahdiism that it merits a description in detail.

"Saier!" In the Sudan the bare mention of this word causes a shudder. The ordinary word for prison is "siggen," but Saier is really a contraction for beit es Saier (i.e. the house of the Saier). Saier is the name of a terrible individual of the Gowameh tribe of Kordofan, who has been gaoler since the early days of the Mahdi, and his name has become the synonym of the horrible place of which he is the guardian.

A curious story is told about his name which is said to be true. The Gowameh women are not renowned for moral virtue, and when Saier was born his mother was asked whose son he was; she was unable to say, and when brought before the authorities and again questioned, she replied that it was "Saier" (i.e. it was the custom of her country); the boy was therefore called Saier, and the name clung to him.

Up to the time of the fall of Khartum, the prison had been merely a large zariba, and it was only after the Mahdi's death that a wall, built by the prisoners themselves, took the place of the thorn hedge. It is situated on the river bank, and consists of a large yard, in the centre of which is a building made of mud, straw, and stones, known as "abu haggar" (or the stone hut), with small square openings for a window and a door; near the hut is a well. In one corner are the cells, which are scarcely large enough to contain a man, and which had been built by Charles Neufeld.

The ordinary prisoners are not kept apart, but lie under the shade of the wall during the day, and at night they are packed, some into the abu haggar and some left to lie about in the yard. A few of the well-off prisoners, who are in for long terms of imprisonment, have been allowed to build little huts for themselves. And just behind the gate is a small sun-dried brick building, which belonged to Wad Gazuli, late sub-Mudir of Khartum, who deserted to the Mahdi before Gordon's arrival; this hut is only big enough for two people, and so low that it is impossible to stand upright in it.

It is considered a very great favour to be given a hut of this description—a favour which is only conferred on very privileged prisoners; it is, moreover, very expensive, but it has this merit, that the occupier can at any rate live separately. There are only three huts of this description in the prison.

Prisoners are not allowed to use mattresses, but the owner of a hut can have a small platform slightly raised from the ground, on which he is allowed to sleep. The ordinary prisoners generally lie on their sheepskins or on mats stretched on the ground.

All prisoners are in chains, the number of which depends on the nature of the crime committed. The chains, called makias, consist of large iron rings forged to the ankles, and joined by one and sometimes two thick iron bars. The whole thing is very cumbersome and heavy, and most tiring to walk with. To lighten this difficulty, the prisoners generally attach a piece of string to the chains, with which they lift them up as they walk. If the connecting bar is twelve inches long walking is greatly facilitated. Prisoners who have fallen under the Khalifa's special displeasure are generally laden with four makias, which make it almost impossible to rise; besides these, a long heavy chain is fastened round the neck, and to prevent the skin being chafed, leather stocks can be bought of the prison warders. Close to the prison gate is a large anvil and several hammers; the foot is placed in the open ring, the ends of which are so tightly hammered together that it is quite impossible to withdraw the foot; the anvil is in such constant use every day that it is almost worn out.

Prisoners have to arrange for their own food; if they have any relations or friends they are generally supplied by them, or if they have any money they can buy their own food from hawkers who are permitted to come into the prison. But woe to the unfortunate prisoner who has neither relations nor friends—he must inevitably die of starvation.

At night, as I have remarked, the prisoners are locked up in the stone hut, and sometimes the Saier crowds it up to such an extent that the inmates are almost suffocated or crushed to death. When he is in want of money he does this, for a man will give anything to be released from this awful black hole, in which he packs them like sardines in a box and then closes the door. The walls of the hut become heated during the day, so that within the temperature is like an oven. A little air gets in through the small opening, but the pestiferous atmosphere caused by scores of perspiring human beings tightly huddled together is beyond measure unbearable. Several may be suffering from various illnesses, but there is no possibility of getting out once the door is closed. These horrible scenes can, however, be better imagined than described; suffice it to say that the noise and quarrelling amongst the prisoners, occasioned by the revolting operations which go on, is generally quelled by the guards coming in with whips, with which they lay about them roundly, and then go out and close the door again.

Sleep is almost quite out of the question, for there is no room to stretch out the legs, the heat is unbearable; scorpions abound, and every now and then a yell shows that some unfortunate individual has been stung; but no one takes any notice. Cases of heat apoplexy often occur, and deaths on this account are frequent. When a person falls down in a fit, the only remark passed is, "ed dam darabu" ("The blood has beaten him"). Thus, in utter anguish and misery, the night is dragged through. The moment the door is opened a rush is made for the open air, the dead are dragged out, their chains knocked off, and then they are buried.

Prisoners who have special permission to sleep outside are all chained together to prevent flight, and are guarded by numbers of soldiers. The slightest show of resistance on the part of a prisoner is punished by flogging. Unless the Khalifa gives special orders to the contrary, prisoners are allowed to receive visits from their friends and relatives. There are no fixed periods of imprisonment, except in the case of smokers and marissa-drinkers, the usual punishment for them being confiscation of property, eighty lashes, and forty days imprisonment; but latterly a fine, estimated at the value of their property, is levied instead of complete confiscation; the two other portions of the sentence are, however, always inflicted.

Prisoners are generally divided into three classes: the first class comprise those who are sentenced by the chief of the beit el mal, and although there is a special prison for offenders against the beit el mal, all serious cases are brought to the Saier.

Second-class prisoners are those undergoing sentences of the judges; both these classes hope for release whenever a sufficiently influential person will pay a sum of money for them, which sum must also be accompanied by a certificate from the Saier that they have been conducting themselves properly during their stay in prison.

The third class are those on whom the vials of the Khalifa's wrath have been poured out; their crimes are for the most part political, and all mediation in their cases is quite useless, no one, not even the judge, is allowed to say a good word for them to the Khalifa. It is only when his wrath is somewhat abated that it may occur to himself to make inquiries about them, and then, perhaps, he may consider recommendations for their release; but the Saier's opinion goes for much more than any other person's, and therefore it is a great point to secure this individual's favour and get into his good graces. One bad word from the Saier can do an infinity of harm, and may indefinitely postpone a release which has been on the point of being made.

The Saier thoroughly understands how to work his influence, for he benefits considerably by his exercise of power; he receives no pay, and therefore he is entirely dependent on what he can make out of the prisoners. The richer his victims, the more pleased he is, for he knows he can wring money out of them freely. Once a month the judge or his representative goes with a clerk to the Saier and makes a list of all the prisoners, showing how long each prisoner has been in confinement. On these occasions numbers of the inmates throw themselves at the feet of the judges and beg to be released because they are starving. This list is shown by the judge to the Khalifa, and Charles Neufeld's name always appears at the top. Abdullah goes through the list, makes careful inquiries about the prisoners, some are released and others passed over in silence, a sign which bodes them no good.

The Saier has seen and heard not a few of the misfortunes of both Sudanese and Europeans. The first Europeans he knew were Slatin Bey and Lupton Bey. Gustav Klootz was put into chains in Abu Girgeh's camp. During the siege of Khartum it was thought the Europeans might attempt to escape to Gordon, they were therefore put in chains; both Slatin and Lupton spent upwards of ten months in chains under the Saier; they suffered dreadfully from hunger and ill-treatment, and were frequently threatened with death. After the fall of Khartum they were released, and were told by the Khalifa that they should feel thankful to have been in prison, otherwise they would undoubtedly have shared Gordon's fate.

One of our Mission brothers, Domenico Polinari, was also kept in prison for six months; he was imprisoned the same day that I arrived from Kordofan.

After the fall of Khartum, Polinari's brother had been working as gardener in the Mission grounds, under his new master, the Khalifa Sherif. The former gardener, a Dongolawi, had been dismissed for dishonesty, and before he left, Sherif ordered him to be carefully examined, as it was thought he might have taken some of his master's property. Polinari, who was a most conscientious man, and had never even taken a lemon without his master's permission, carried out the search most carefully, and succeeded in getting back quantities of things the thief had made away with. For a time the thief said nothing, but soon his innate Danagla astuteness came to his assistance, and he concocted a plan to revenge himself on Polinari, and again become chief gardener.

The war material, just as it had been left by Gordon in the Mission house, was still there, and it happened that one day some powder was stolen. In spite of the most careful inquiries, it was impossible to trace the thief, and now the ex-gardener began to throw out hints that Polinari was implicated in the theft. A certain Hajji Zubeir was entrusted with the inquiry. Polinari's hut was overhauled, but nothing found in it; his honesty was so well known that no one would credit any evil reports or slander against him. But the ex-gardener was not to be put off. Having failed in his first accusation, he now began to spread reports that Polinari drank liquor and chewed tobacco, and in proof of this he produced a large glass bottle and some dried herbs; there were some fresh dates in the bottle, with which Polinari intended making vinegar, which the gardener insisted was liquor; the dried vegetable was a sort of cabbage which Polinari intended cooking for his food, but this the Dongolawi asserted to be tobacco.

The unfortunate Polinari was obliged to walk through Omdurman with the bottle on his head, followed by an insulting and disorderly crowd, until he came before the judge. Kadi Ahmed, who was well known for his partiality to Europeans, at once recognised that this was all a trumped-up slander, and was anxious to release Polinari; but Hajji Zubeir, who had still great influence with the Khalifa, and instigated by the ex-gardener, sent him off to the Saier. Every other day we used to send him some bread and dates, but the slave to whom the food had been consigned never delivered it, as we afterwards discovered, and had it not been that two of the sheikhs, who were fellow-prisoners with him, had given him some of their food, he must have died of starvation.

Amongst the many Sudanese who have at various times been inmates of the Saier, may be mentioned the aged sheikh of the Shukrieh, who had been most loyal to Gordon, Awad el Kerim Abu Sin—he died in prison; Wad Zaid, of the Debaineh tribe, had been kept in prison four years; then there were Ahmed Wad Suleiman, who had been the Mahdi's chief of the beit el mal; Saleh Pasha Wad el Mek, one of Gordon's principal officers; the Ashraf Sayid Abdel Kader and Sayid Abdel Kerim; Wad Adlan we have already referred to; Jabrallah, Sultan of Darfur, and his five sons, most of whom died; Wad en Nejumi; Sheikh Idris; Makin Wad en Nur, and many others.

When the Khalifa's tribe, the Taisha, first arrived, they plundered the market, and Abdullah threw 200 of them into prison, "to teach them," he said, "the right way." Every night fifty of them were driven into the stone hut, which was, indeed, a terrible change from their forests and plains. Every day several died of typhus fever, and now the mere mention of Saier makes them tremble; even their head sheikh, El Ghazali, whose misfortunes I have already narrated, spent some months in prison before he made his unsuccessful attempt to escape.

Yasin, a Jaali, who had fallen into the hands of the English at Toski, and who was subsequently released, and given a letter to take to the Khalifa from the Egyptian Government, had to pay dearly for saying to Abdullah that they could not fight against the English.

Another of the captives taken at Toski, but who also returned to Omdurman, was much more crafty in his interview with the Khalifa; this individual related that, when in Cairo, an old monk had said to him, "Is not the Khalifa of the Mahdi called Abdullah?" to which he replied, "Yes; it is so." "Is he not slightly lame?" "Yes." "Is he not marked with small-pox?" "Yes." Then the monk said, "Do you see this book? It contains the history of the Mahdi and his successor, and it is stated in it that Khalifa Abdullah shall conquer Egypt, Syria, and Mecca." The Khalifa was so delighted with the story that, turning round to his people, he said, "You see the Christians know perfectly well that Mahdiism is not false." The wily author of the story was then given a present of money.

Occasionally the Saier treats his prisoners very cruelly. Two fikis who were suspected of being unbelievers were given 1,000 lashes each; one died on the spot, and the other a few days afterwards. Occasionally he relieves the monotony by giving his prisoners 400 lashes, which is not considered an out-of-the-way punishment.

On one occasion, two Ababdeh Arabs coming from Korosko as merchants, were discovered south of Metemmeh with rifles in parts, carefully concealed in bales of cloth; letters were also found on them. They were at once considered to be spies, and taken before the Khalifa. As soon as it was rumoured that Arabs carrying letters for the Europeans had been caught, a friend came to me at once, and told me that the letters were sure to be addressed to me. This threw me into a fever of anguish and alarm; I was made a prisoner, and spent that night in the greatest terror. The Khalifa had warned us most distinctly not to correspond with Egypt, and threatened to imprison us if a letter should ever be discovered.

On this occasion I had every reason to be alarmed, for I had already had a similar experience. After Father Bonomi had escaped, he sent a Kababish Arab to Kordofan to try and secure my escape. The Arab remained with Sheikh Saleh Bey, and did not, to my knowledge, ever come to El Obeid. When Saleh was killed in 1887, they found amongst his papers a letter from Father Bonomi to me, advising me to trust the Arab, who would not fail to guide me safely to Halfa. This letter was brought, with the other correspondence, to the Khalifa, and was translated to him: he was furious, and had not my guardian angel protected me, I must have been relegated to prison.

Arabic letters are less dangerous, for they are read out to the Khalifa by his secretary, but he is always mistrustful that European letters are correctly translated. How I had longed for letters, even a word from the outside world, or from my relations or friends; but now in my captivity how earnestly I prayed that no letter for me should be found amongst those brought by the Arabs!

As soon as it was daylight I went out in search of news, and to my delight was told that the letters were in Arabic and were not for me, but for some one whom I knew very well. The contents of the letters were quite harmless, merely an interchange of compliments between families in Cairo and Omdurman, and news of a wedding which had taken place in Cairo. However, the two men who brought the letters were in no little fear, thinking they would certainly be executed; but the Khalifa had thoroughly mastered their contents, and though it was evening, he mounted his big white horse, in which position he usually made his important speeches to the Ansar, and he told them that letters had been captured which had come from Egypt and were addressed to the "Ansar el Gudad" (i.e. the "new Ansar," or inhabitants of Khartum and the Blue Nile, in contra-distinction to the "Ansar el Gudum," or old Ansar of Kordofan, who were the original adherents of the Mahdi); that he did not intend to mention the names of the persons to whom the letters were addressed, but he was sure they would spend a sleepless night.

The next morning the two Arabs were sent to the Saier, but their lives were spared. A few days later I went to see Neufeld in prison and inquired about the Arabs. I saw them both chained, and when they saw me they at once asked me for something, addressing me as Baladieh (i.e. one of their own countrymen), as they took me for an Egyptian; and then they told me in strict secrecy that they had come with the intention of securing the flight of two persons—one Mankarius Gottas, who had died in Galabat, and the other a resident in Berber, by whose imprudence they had been betrayed; these unfortunate men had had nothing to eat for three days, so I gave them a few piastres which I had brought for Neufeld, and as I did not dare to stay longer with them I begged Zogheir to look after them.

Fifteen days afterwards I returned and found the poor men stretched out dead under the wall, they had died of starvation, and the guards had just come to knock off their chains and carry their bodies out of the yard. The sight of these two Ababdehs filled my heart with sadness; there they lay, nothing but a mass of skin and bone; they had come to help poor captives to escape, and this was their own miserable end. This, indeed, was a warning to me to act with increased prudence and caution.

An Egyptian, born in the Sudan, was also sent to the Saier for a few months for declaring that he was the fourth Khalifa—i.e. the Khalifa Osman. One day this individual had presented himself to the Khalifa and begged to be heard for a few moments as he wished to tell him of a dream he had had. It is quite an ordinary occurrence for the Ansar to relate dreams flattering to the Khalifa, in the hope of getting some bakshish.

Thus did our Khalifa Osman relate that in his dream or vision he had beheld the Mahdi, who told him to declare himself the fourth Khalifa, and therefore he begged that Abdullah would confirm him as such and permit him to take his share of authority with the other Khalifas; he also begged that all the honour due to him as Khalifa Osman should be forthwith paid to him.

This poor madman paid dearly for his dream. Abdullah merely made a sign to one of his body-guard, on which he was hurried off to the Saier, where he received fifty lashes twice a day, and was eventually obliged to confess that the devil had tempted him to strive after this position.

Charles Neufeld remained in the prison longer than any one else. I have narrated in a previous chapter how he had daringly joined Saleh's people with the intention of establishing commercial relations with the Arabs, and how he was entrapped by the Dervishes at the oasis of Selimeh. This good man knew nothing of the Sudan and nothing about Mahdiism, and it was just at this time that the Khalifa had made up his mind to crush Saleh and his Kababish.

On the 7th of March, Neufeld arrived in Omdurman—a prisoner under a strong escort. News spread like wildfire that an English pasha had been captured, and this caused a great stir in the capital. The Khalifa considered him a most important capture, and Neufeld was ushered into the presence of the three Khalifas and two Europeans, who were entrusted with the examination of his papers. Neufeld spoke Arabic, and was quite fearless. His papers showed that he was a Prussian and had studied in the Leipzig University. All the documents were most carefully translated to the Khalifa, as it was most important to assure him that Neufeld was not an Englishman, as otherwise it would have gone very hardly with him. There was one letter, however, in English, which, if it had been truthfully translated, would have probably got him into great danger.

After the preliminary examination, Abdullah's mind seemed to have been put at rest, for he delivered from his high seat a long speech to the inquisitive Ansar regarding this great English pasha, who he said had come to the Sudan with arms and ammunition, intending to seize Kordofan and fight against Mahdiism, but fortunately the brave troops of Wad en Nejumi had met him near Dongola, killed his soldiers, and captured him.

It was the Khalifa's habit to exaggerate facts and thereby encourage the Ansar; he also made out his capture was a most important event, for hitherto they had not succeeded in taking even one of the hated English. Poor Neufeld was therefore thrown into chains and carefully guarded by soldiers; during the whole of that night a fanatical Dinka negress, who used to dress in men's clothes and wear a sword, shrieked continuously at him, "Allah hu akbar alal kufar!" ("God's power is most great over the unbelievers.")

It was decided that Neufeld was to be hanged the next morning. Very early the Khalifa sent orders that the great drum should be beaten, while the blast of the huge onbeÏa close to Neufeld's ears almost made him fall down from fright. The slaves made game of him as if he were a monkey; but he still kept up courage and answered all these insults with a manly spirit; the rope had been fixed on to the scaffold, and already crowds of people were collected to see the Englishman executed. But the condemned man had not yet arrived, for the Khalifa's final decision had not been taken. Hitherto he had never executed a white man in this open way, and he delayed, because he was still uncertain about his being a Prussian. Had Neufeld been an Englishman, there is not the smallest doubt he would have been killed.

At length Abdullah made up his mind not to kill him, but he determined to frighten him; about midday, therefore, Neufeld was taken to the market-place escorted by horsemen; the crowd raised a yell of delight when he appeared, but Neufeld fearlessly walked on, and on reaching the gallows he jumped on to the angarib and bent his head so that Bringi might adjust the rope round his neck. Just at the last moment the judge stepped forward and said that the Khalifa had been graciously pleased to repeal the sentence of execution, and Neufeld was, therefore, again removed to the lock-up.

Three days later he was laden with three heavy chains, put on to a camel, and led through all the streets of Omdurman, so that every one might see him. He was also taken to a review where the Khalifa asked him if the Turks possessed as many troops as he now saw before him, to which Neufeld replied that the Khalifa's troops were more numerous, but that they were not so well drilled in exercises and movements as the Turks were.

This answer did not please the Khalifa; and in order to make him take an interest in the Mahdi and his Khalifa, he was taken over to Khartum and was there shown the Mission building, which the Mahdi had seized; he was then taken back to the prison, where he remained four years. He was frequently attacked with typhus fever, dysentery, and other ailments, and was terribly stung by scorpions; had not the Europeans in Omdurman supported him he must have starved to death.

The depth of misery to which poor Neufeld was reduced may be readily understood when it is known that he spent a whole year in the stone hut, and it was not until he had completed two years in prison that, through the intermediary of a friend, he was allowed to build a little cell for himself in one of the corners of the yard, where he could sleep away from the other prisoners. This little building was about twelve feet square and very low, and here poor Neufeld used to sit all day long; his jibbeh was very dirty and swarming with insects, which allowed him little rest at night, and in despair he used to get one of his companions in adversity to rub him with wet sand, which made his skin less irritable; some sympathizing Arabs told him to soak crushed cloves in water and then rub his body with the paste; this Neufeld found a capital remedy, though it made his skin smart a great deal at first. Neufeld's kindness of heart soon won over his guards, and often they allowed him to remain undisturbed in his little hut for the night instead of dragging him off to the stone hut.

One evening, hearing that the Saier was in a bad humour, he told his guards that he wanted to spend that night in the stone hut; but the soldiers assured him that the moment they knew there was to be an inspection they would at once let him know. So Neufeld settled himself to sleep in his cell, when suddenly, about midnight, one of his guards awoke him, saying, "Get up quickly! the Saier has sworn he will give any one he finds outside the stone hut 100 lashes."

Neufeld got up as quickly as possible and made his way to the hut, but the chains prevented him from moving rapidly, and when he got to the door he could not turn the key; just at that moment the Saier came into the yard, and seeing him, ordered him to be given 100 lashes on the spot; but the soldiers refused to obey—one said he had fever, and the other said that he had been flogging people all day and was too tired. The Saier was therefore obliged to call slaves from his own house, who administered the 100 lashes, and left poor Neufeld covered with deep scores all over his body.

In 1889 Neufeld obtained a new companion in adversity in the person of a Bohemian baker, who had been employed with some Greeks at Halfa. One day, in a state of semi-intoxication, the baker had left Halfa with nothing but his violin, intending to go to Sawakin; but he lost his way in the desert, was overcome by thirst, and wandered towards the Nile, which he at length reached. Quite ignorant of the direction in which he was going, he struck out towards the south, and fell in with a patrol of Dervishes, by whom he was passed on to Omdurman.

On his arrival the Khalifa sent him to prison, where he remained two years. Neufeld shared his every mouthful with him; but during the famine he suffered dreadfully from want. At length, through the intermediary of the mukuddum in charge of the Europeans, he was released; but a few months afterwards he made off to the Gezireh. The mukuddum, who had guaranteed him with his head, sent several camelmen in search of him; but there was no trace to be found of him. After a time it was reported that he had died of starvation at Rufaa on the Blue Nile, and this information greatly relieved the Khalifa's mind.

As for Neufeld, we did our utmost to obtain his release; but the Khalifa would not hear of it; moreover, false reports were circulated about him. Some people who came from Dongola said that Neufeld, in disguise, had been sent by the Egyptian Government to find out whether the Mudir—Mustafa Yawer—was still loyal or had thrown in his lot with the Dervishes; but in reality it was Kitchener Pasha who had been entrusted with this mission.

On another occasion an Arabic newspaper, printed in Cairo, was brought to him, containing a paragraph to the effect that an English officer had been captured by the Dervishes in Dongola. This amazed the Khalifa greatly, for at once he believed that he had been deceived and that Neufeld was actually an Englishman. Being, in truth, a mere savage and an ignorant man, he believed that all news in a newspaper must be true, and blamed himself for not having executed Neufeld in the first instance; he ordered him, however, to be more heavily chained than before.

Others again spread rumours abroad that Neufeld had come with the intention of aiding Slatin to escape—news which enraged the Khalifa perhaps more than anything else. Thus did Neufeld spend four years in prison, and his release seemed hopeless; but we left no stone unturned. We secured the good-will of all the most influential people in Omdurman, including even the Om el Muminin (Mother of the Faithful—i.e. the Mahdi's widow) and the Sherifa Sitt Nefisa (the daughter of Sidi Hassan el Morghani), who petitioned very earnestly for his release; but the Khalifa would listen to no one.

When powder was scarce in Omdurman, some one suggested, at one of the Khalifa's councils, that it would be much better to make the unbelievers work for religion instead of remaining all day long idle in the Saier, and that Neufeld ought to undertake the saltpetre refinery. The Khalifa said, "Do what you think right—I am content." And on the same day Neufeld was sent to Halfaieh in search of saltpetre; he found some, and a month later was moved to Khartum, where he is now working in the old Mission-house with an Egyptian assistant named Said. He still wears one chain on the feet, which, from constant rubbing, has become as bright as silver, while there are great black marks round his ankles. In Khartum he is allowed greater liberty than he had in Omdurman.

In 1891 a Jewish merchant came from Massawa to Kassala, where the Emir Abu Girgeh was then commanding. The latter was in favour of opening commercial relations by means of Jews, and permitting non-Mussulman dealers to come and sell their goods at Kassala, or let them go on further into the country. When, therefore, the Jew had disposed of his goods, he went, on Abu Girgeh's advice, to Omdurman. On being presented, the Khalifa summoned another Jew, named Passioni, whom he made responsible for the new arrival. But, as usual, the voice of slander was not silent; it was whispered that he was an Italian spy, and that it would have been better to have him under surveillance. He had scarcely left the Khalifa's presence, when he was recalled and sent to the Saier, there to be "educated as a true Ansar."

The fate of Olivier Pain and the experiences of Neufeld and this Jew are sufficient evidence to prove the utter uselessness of attempting to personally enter into commercial relations with the present ruler of the Sudan. Any one who comes to Omdurman need expect nothing but chains, the most terrible form of imprisonment, insults and ignominy from the Sudanese.

A still worse fate befell Sheikh Khalil, who was sent from Egypt to the Sudan on a special mission to the Khalifa. In company with an Ababdeh sheikh, he arrived at Abu Hamed, where Zogal was at the time. The latter being accurately informed of the nature of his mission, allowed the two messengers to travel without escort to Omdurman, and on the journey Khalil had opportunities of speaking to the people, and ascertaining how they were disposed to the Egyptian Government. He saw with his own eyes the devastation wrought by the Dervishes and by famine in all the towns and villages along the Nile. For some days before he actually reached Omdurman, we heard of his approach, which occasioned no small stir in the place. Some people thought he was bringing proposals of peace, which, if refused by the Khalifa, would oblige the Egyptian Government to again advance into the Sudan; rumours of all sorts were rife, but there was no possible means of knowing the truth.

Late one evening Khalil arrived, dressed as an Egyptian, with a long flowing abayeh (mantle). He was taken before Yakub, to whom he made over his letter, and was then taken before the Khalifa, to whom, it is said, he freely spoke his mind. That same evening he was sent under escort to Kererri, where he was put into a hut under a strong guard, but he was not chained. He was supplied with meat, butter, corn and sugar, and a female slave was placed at his disposal by the Khalifa, who had purposely sent him out of Omdurman to prevent him conversing with anyone, and to keep all information regarding his mission quite secret.[P] In this way the Khalifa thought he would give him a different impression of Mahdiism, while Hajji Zubeir was told off as intermediary between Khalil and Abdullah.

It was generally believed that Khalil had blamed the Khalifa for his ill-treatment and oppression of the Moslems, and had shown him how his rule was ruining the Sudan. He had begged him to abandon the evil of Mahdiism and return to the true orthodox religion. Whilst in confinement at Kererri he was frequently threatened with death. No one knew what his mission could be, and the Khalifa knew how to guard it secretly, so that gradually people began to forget all about him, and great was the surprise when one day Khalil and his companion appeared riding on mules at the great parade held during the Bairam festival.

The Khalifa brought Khalil here to show him how immense was his power and authority, and just before the parade was concluded Abdullah and all the cavalry galloped up to him, surrounded him, and asked whether he would not rather stay in the shadow of the Mahdi's dome than return to Egypt. Khalil, who had now been for upwards of five months in confinement, and thinking that he should never be allowed to leave, and at the same time longing to be allowed to return and report to the Government all he had seen, replied diplomatically that having once been in the light he had no wish to return to darkness.

This reply delighted the Khalifa, who ordered him to be set free, and at prayers in the mosque on that day he sat in the centre of the long line of Ansar just behind the Khalifa.

It is the custom at festivals for all European prisoners, Greeks, Syrians, Jews, &c., to go and offer the Khalifa their good wishes. When they arrived on this occasion the Khalifa ordered them to be seated around him—he does not allow them to kiss his hand, as he might thereby become contaminated with their impurity; he usually makes a speech, pointing out the punishments which may fall upon them; but this time he was particularly gracious, asked how they were all getting on, and if they had met with ill-treatment or injustice at the hands of anyone. He gave them to understand that they must look on him as their protector, and that should they die their children would become their heirs, and that if a family had no children, the property would be sold and divided amongst the other prisoners.

This kindly speech was a great surprise to us all; but the astute Khalifa only wanted to show Khalil how well he treated his prisoners. It is possible, also, that Khalil had observed to him how badly we really were treated, but this is only surmise on my part. Abdullah's kindly speech, however, did us much good, for of course all he says goes the round of the whole town, and when the people knew that we had been well received, they showed us much greater kindness and respect. If, on the other hand, the Khalifa ever imputes a word of blame to any of us, the reaction on the people is immediate, and we are at once insulted and maltreated. It is always said that "the whites"—which is the name by which we are known in the Sudan—"live under the shadow of the sword."

The Khalifa then asked Khalil's companion if he wished to return or stay where he was. The man replied that he was a messenger, pure and simple, and that as such "he should return to him who sent him," and on the same day the Khalifa gave him permission to depart.

But now evil reports were spread abroad regarding Khalil. It was said that he was a great friend of Mustafa Yawer, the ex-Mudir of Dongola, and that it was mainly through his influence that he prevented him adopting Mahdiism; it was also said that he was the chief of the spies sent by the English, and a bitter enemy to the Mahdi. It was imprudent under such circumstances of Khalil to go as an envoy to Omdurman. He had given his services to the Government for this purpose, and he bravely adhered to it; but he was well known to the inhabitants of Dongola and Dar Shaggieh, and it was quite certain that the Khalifa would never permit such a man to return to Egypt. Even in Omdurman he would not allow him to be at large.

Two days later the judges were assembled to consider Khalil's case: false witnesses came forward who asserted that they had seen Khalil worshipping the sun and frequently turning towards the west at prayers, and all sorts of stories were trumped up to induce the Khalifa to put Khalil in chains.

The pliable judges condemned the sheikh, and he was relegated to the Saier. Neufeld had to give up his cell, which was made over to Khalil. None of the prisoners were allowed to speak to him—thus was the poor man left without a friend or acquaintance to help him; everyone shunned him as if he were the victim of some foul disease. From the earliest days of Mahdiism it was always the fate of those who fell in favour to be deserted by all, and this was more especially the case with all those on whom the Khalifa's wrath fell. Thus everyone—fearing for his own life—avoids all intercourse with such prisoners.

When Khalil had expended the little money he possessed, he sold his sword, sheepskin, and clothes, and bought bread—such bread too!—even Sudanese, who are accustomed to eat all sorts of stuff, could only eat prison bread when hunger had made them like ravenous wolves; but Khalil had come from Egypt and its flesh-pots, and the Sudan bread made him ill.

At length he had no more money to buy even bread, and then he suffered the pangs of hunger. For a month before his death his beard had grown quite white, and he himself had become like a skeleton. His wretchedness and loneliness brought on sickness, and he died a miserable death. It occurred on a Friday whilst the Khalifa was attending a review, and Abdullah accidentally fell from his horse on that day, but was caught before he reached the ground. This was considered a very bad omen by the people, who thought that Khalil had been unjustly condemned. They believed it pointed to the overthrow of the Khalifa's rule, and he himself was very much disturbed.

The disloyal Ababdehs of Hassan Khalifa were also locked up in the Saier. Hassan was a nephew of the former Mudir of Berber, had been for a long time emir of Abu Hamed, and during Nejumi's advance on Egypt had occupied the wells of Murat. It was said that when there, he had acted in a most reprehensible manner, and had wrung quantities of money out of the merchants. It was also said that when Saleh Bey advanced from Korosko on Murat, he came to an arrangement with him—for he was not a Mahdiist at heart—and had retired on Abu Hamed without attempting to fight.

All sorts of reports about him reached the Khalifa's ears, but he refused to believe them. When, however, a certain Abadi named Karrar, one of the Khalifa's spies, who had been captured by Saleh at Murat, for having letters in his possession for the sheikhs in Egypt, and had been kept in prison for some months, was released and returned to Omdurman, the Khalifa then became convinced of Hassan Khalifa's disloyalty; he sent four of his mulazimin to Abu Hamed, arrested him and his people, and confiscated all their property. About forty men were thrown into chains, dragged to Omdurman and there relegated to the Saier; several died of typhus, and the remainder, after two years' imprisonment, were sent as exiles to Fashoda, except Hassan, who still remains in prison at Omdurman.

Near the Saier is another small prison for females, but there are not so many of them.