ON CAMELS ACROSS THE GREAT NUBIAN DESERT.

Father Ohrwalder and Sisters Venturini and Chincarini escape—The ride for life—The rencontre with the Dervish guard near Abu Hamed—Alarm of the party—The journey across the great Nubian desert—Five hundred miles on camel-back in seven days—Arrival at the Egyptian outpost at Murat—Safe at last—Arrival in Cairo.

On Sunday evening I went to see a friend and returned at nine o'clock; this happened to be the last visit I was to make in Omdurman. Just as I stepped into my yard, there I saw Ahmed standing before me. In a few hasty words he told me to get ready as soon as possible; his friends had made a mistake and had come a day earlier with the camels. The sisters and Adila were all ready; I gave Ahmed the few small things I had as well as my arms, and told him to take the sisters to the appointed place, which was only about thirty yards from the hut, whilst I went off and informed the only person who was in the secret, of our sudden decision to leave a day earlier.

All fear had now gone, and, almost beside myself with excitement, I hastened to my friend's house and knocked at the door. "Who's there?" he asked. And when he knew who it was he was greatly surprised, and asked why I came so late. As some one else was standing near, I said that I had been seized with a violent pain, and had come to beg a few drops of laudanum, and then I approached him, pressed his hand, and whispered in his ear that we were on the point of starting.

The poor man received such a start, that had he not caught hold of something, he would have fallen; but I roused him by asking him loudly to get me the laudanum at once; so he went off to his room, and there, with a trembling hand, he put a few drops on a piece of sugar. I took it back to the house, which I found the sister had just left. Then wrapping myself in a black mantle, I locked the door, and took the key with me. I saw something dark in the distance, which I knew must be the camels, and thither I picked my way. In a few moments I had reached the spot, and a man whom I did not know helped me on to my camel; but there was no time to ask questions. Ahmed put the sisters on the camels, on which the two other Arabs rode, whilst I took Adila behind me on my camel.

Not thirty yards from where we were was a well, around which a number of female slaves were gathered; but the little noise we made was drowned by their laughter. The moment of mounting was perhaps the most dangerous time, for the camels were restive, and longing to be off. It was with the greatest difficulty the Arabs managed to keep their mouths closed, and no sooner were we on their backs than we glided swiftly away into the darkness. Now and then we saw fires, at which the people were cooking their food, or sitting around gossiping; fortunately it was a cold night, so most of the people were in their huts. We passed the spot where we had laid the poor sister who had recently died; it was sad to think that she was not with us now. We kept steadily moving forward, not a word had passed our lips; the camels had been well fed up on dhurra, and went so quickly that we could scarcely hold them in. I tried to peer through the darkness, while my ear was ready to catch the slightest sound of possible pursuers.

Soon we had left Omdurman far behind, and in the soft sand-bed of Khor Shambat we dismounted to have our saddles re-arranged; then we mounted again, and pursued our journey at a rapid pace northwards along the river bank. We were in all seven persons and four camels: the guide Ahmed Hassan, his two friends Hamed and Awad; Sister Catterina Chincarini and Sister Elizabetta Venturini; myself and Adila.

A cold north wind was blowing, which our rapid advance made quite cutting. I followed the Arab custom, and bound a large turban round my head, leaving only the eyes exposed. We passed several villages, but the barking of the dogs always gave us warning, and so we avoided them. I had not heard a dog bark for years, and the sound was quite pleasing to me. We met some Gellabas riding on donkeys, on their way to Omdurman, but in the darkness they could not see who we were, and we passed them rapidly; only Ahmed remained behind, to greet them and exchange news.

Now the narrow track led through thick bushes, which we could not rightly see; our clothes, hands, and feet got torn and scratched by the thorns; but we never checked the pace, and continued our course steadily northwards. "Time is money," they say, but in our case time was life; we crossed dry beds of streams, over which the animals would sometimes stumble and fall, the riders with them; but there was no time to think of pains and bruises; to pick oneself up, catch and mount the camel, which might easily have been lost in the desert, was all one had time to think about. None of us had watches, but during the many sleepless nights I had passed, I had become used to observing the stars, and could tell the time almost to within five minutes.

Just at dawn we neared the village of Wad Bishara, and pushed on quicker so as to pass it before daybreak. This village is generally considered two days north of Omdurman. We then left the ordinary track, and turned towards the desert, as we dared not go along the river bank during the daytime. At sunrise we could just see the thin strip of green which marked the course of the stream; still we did not alight, but pushed on and on, up and down hills, across long stretches of sandy plain. Our eyes became so red and swollen we could scarcely see, and they pained us considerably.

At length, after some hours, we drew up, dismounted ate a little biscuit, and drank some water, readjusted our saddles, then up and away again. My mind travelled back to Omdurman. Had our flight been discovered at once? What would happen to those left behind? How astonished they would be to find we had gone! But this train of thought was suddenly interrupted; one of the sisters had fallen off her camel, and was lying insensible on the ground; we picked her up, splashed her with water, and after a time brought her to; we then put her on to the camel again, and tied her firmly to the saddle; there was nothing else to be done—it was a question of life and death. So we rode continuously forward, in the desert by day and along the river bank by night.

I had asked Ahmed about the stranger who had helped me to mount my camel in Omdurman, and he told me that the animals had become so restive by good feeding that it was impossible for one man to hold them whilst the other two came to the hut to fetch us; he had therefore taken two friends into his confidence, and made them swear on the Kuran that they would not betray us. Just after sunset they had ridden the camels quite openly through the market-place, with their arms slung across the saddles, so that people should think they were post-camels, and no suspicion would be created.

Ahmed told me more too about the difficulties he had had in stabling the camels prior to our flight; two of them had been tethered in a poor woman's yard, and the two others he had placed in charge of one of his friends; but these caretakers had guessed that something was about to happen, and had urged Ahmed to depart as soon as possible, for they began to think they might become involved in the matter. Ahmed had paid them most liberally for their services; he had also had recourse to magic, summoned the spirits, and consulted a fiki, who prophesied the journey would be "as white as milk," that is to say, that no mishap would occur, for which statement Ahmed had given him a considerable bakshish.

We continued our journey always along the left bank of the Nile, there was no time to stop for sleep. Occasionally we came across Arab shepherds in the desert tending their herds of goats. They gazed wonderingly at us, and asked questions of Ahmed, who purposely always remained a short way behind. Ahmed drew a gloomy picture of the recent rising in Omdurman, describing how the two Khalifas had openly fought with each other, how nothing was heard night and day but the roar of cannon and the rattle of musketry, while the slaughter had been terrible beyond words. He represented that we were fugitives who had left the ordinary roads, fearing that the disturbed state of the country might make them unsafe, for bands of brigands were known to be roaming about.

These simple people, thoroughly detesting Mahdiism, believed every word Ahmed told them, thought we were wise to fly, and gave him as much milk as he wanted, a fact which he also regarded as a good omen.

Although Ahmed and his friends knew the usual roads well, they had never been on exactly the track we had been forced to take to avoid the inhabited places. Thus it happened that we approached the river sooner than we expected; in fact, almost before we knew it, we found ourselves amongst houses in the village of Makani, which was so concealed by trees that we had not seen it. We then met a party of Gellabas, and at Ahmed's advice at once slowed our pace so as not to provoke mistrust. These Gellabas looked at us somewhat suspiciously, and tried in vain to find out the object of our journey. Probably they remembered us afterwards when our flight became known.

At length, after some difficulty, we emerged from the village and again turned into the desert; but when I blamed Ahmed for misguiding us, he merely answered cheerfully, "Allah marakna!" ("God has delivered us!")

When we had got some distance from the river, we dismounted and had a slight meal of dates and water. Our limbs were so stiff we could not stand up straight, and our clothes were sticking to the wounds we had received when riding through the bush. How delightful it was to be on the ground again and stretch our cramped legs, and how pleasant would a short sleep have been! But no sooner had the camels swallowed a little dhurra than we were up and off again. We still went in a northerly direction, and as our scratches warmed again they pained us considerably; but the feeling that we were not pursued, and the growing hope that we should really escape, encouraged us to overcome every difficulty. We watered at Gubat on the Nile, where the English had encamped in 1885, and then we rode cautiously, well outside the great village of Metemmeh. The barking and howling of the dogs made the camels quicken their pace, and soon we were out of sight of the Jaalin capital.

We then began to discuss how we were to cross the Nile. Ahmed had a friend living in a village just south of Berber, and it occurred to him that we might cross there. We trotted quietly on towards this village, when a man suddenly sprang out in front of us and cried, "Enta min?" ("Who are you?") But we soon found out that the man was afraid, and had taken us for robbers. His sudden appearance had given us a great start, and we at once thought that our pursuers had caught us up, and that we were about to be recaptured. Ahmed, however, approached the man, and as we rode on, he turned, spoke to him, and allayed his fears.

When we approached the village, we dismounted and hid behind some thick bushes, whilst Ahmed went in search of his friend who was to ferry us across. In about half an hour he returned, saying that it was impossible, as the boat was on the other side. Besides, he had heard that two boats had just passed down on their way to Berber, and that all disturbances in Omdurman were at an end. However, they had heard nothing about our flight. We therefore mounted again, and continued marching north the whole of that night and the following day.

On this, the third day of our journey, we came in sight of Berber, and towards evening descended to the river almost exactly opposite the town, filled our waterskins, and then made for the desert again. We did not dare keep near the river here, as numbers of Baggara were living in the neighbourhood. At about midnight we alighted, as Ahmed did not know the road. We fed the camels, and indulged in our usual meal of biscuits, dates, and water. Ahmed had also succeeded in procuring from his friend some tobacco and small earthenware pipes; so we smoked with impunity, and began to feel that our escape was now almost assured.

But we had still before us the crossing of the river, which our Arab friends in Omdurman had warned us would be one of the most critical and dangerous parts of our plan. We were in the saddle again at dawn, and continued our journey over a stony plateau which our guides did not recognize. Then all day we marched through narrow valleys, full of large stones washed down by the torrents. At length towards evening we sighted the river again, and descended towards it through a narrow gorge, where we had to dismount, as the camels could scarcely make their way across the great boulders which blocked the path. Once on the plain, our guides recognised the road, and we found ourselves near the village of Benga, where we hoped to be able to secure boats to take us across.

We advanced now very cautiously, looking round in every direction; and I espied three camelmen setting off evidently in the direction of Abu Hamed. I at once called Ahmed's attention to this; and although they were some way off, they could have seen us, so Ahmed advised us to alight at once, which we did, and concealed ourselves in a khor amongst some bushes.

Ahmed and his companions were, I could see, not a little alarmed by the appearance of the camelmen, and began to speak to each other in their own dialect; but I guessed by the expressions on their faces what they thought—viz. that our flight had been discovered, news had been sent to Berber, and now the camelmen were on their way to warn the emir of Abu Hamed to intercept us. I endeavoured to prove to them that it was quite impossible for the news to have reached Berber yet, even if our flight had been reported to the Khalifa the morning after we had left. It was most unlikely that the pursuit would have been begun before the evening, and we had thus got a good twenty-four hours' start. We were then just four hours north of Berber, and had been three and a half days out from Omdurman. Our pursuers therefore, even if they had ridden as rapidly and as persistently as we had, could not possibly have reached Berber yet. But my calculations by no means convinced our guides; and after a long consultation, Ahmed and Awad went towards the river about four miles distant, while Hamed stayed behind to look after the camels.

Now was the time to take a few hours' sleep before night came on. During the three and a half days we had been on the journey we had had only four hours' sleep. We were quite worn out; our simple meals of biscuit and water did not give us much nourishment, our limbs were so stiff that we could scarcely move, and our wounds proved most irritating. Under such circumstances it can well be understood how welcome sleep would have been; but the appearance of these three camels, the alarm of the guides, and our anxiety about crossing the river, drove away all idea of rest, and all we could do was to await with what patience we knew the return of the two Arabs.

At length, just as the sun was setting, Ahmed and Awad returned, much rejoiced. They had made inquiries about the three camelmen, and had found out that they had nothing to do with us, and that nothing was known yet of our flight. They had arranged with a boatman to ferry us across, under the pretext that they were conducting a small party of slaves whom they were going to hand over to the emir of Abu Hamed. This most satisfactory news quite dissipated our fatigue, and we ate our wretched biscuit and dates with an excellent appetite. As soon as it was dark we moved towards the river, and dismounted close to the water's edge. As yet there was no sign of the boatman, but we saw two boys rowing towards us.

Meanwhile Ahmed had gone to a house close by to get some dhurra. Then the boatman came and announced that he could not take us across that night, but we must wait till the morning. This would never have done; not only should we have lost a whole night, but we should undoubtedly have been recognised in daylight. However, it was no use talking, and the man went off to his hut; but we did not get discouraged, for if the worst came to the worst, we could row ourselves across.

By this time the two boys had reached the bank, and they now came forward and offered to take us across; of course we accepted, and in an incredibly short space of time our guides had got the camels on board. It was a large boat, so we all crossed together, and on reaching the opposite bank Ahmed gave the boys two dollars, with which they seemed highly pleased, kissed our hands, wished us a pleasant journey, and then returned to the west bank. We watered the animals, filled our skins, mounted, and again set our faces northwards.

It was now past midnight. The camels, refreshed by their rest and good feed, pushed on quickly, and during that night and the whole of the next day we rode on without any interruption or mishap. Not a soul was to be seen in this lonely desert, but we often came across herds of antelopes, rabbits, and a few hyenas; the antelopes would stand about twenty paces off, prick up their ears, and look inquisitively at the strange caravan.

It was quite cool when we left Omdurman, but now the weather had quite changed, and we felt it oppressively hot; we saw mirages constantly, and were often deceived by them. Our camels and ourselves now began to suffer. I was much struck by the change in the appearance of these animals; the high, fat hump and thick neck they had in Omdurman had both grown to half the size. At first we had the greatest difficulty in holding them in; now they were so tired that we had to keep flogging them all the time; their feet had got so worn that treading on a stone made them jump sideways, and to ease them we four men alternately dismounted and led them for some distance.

Our track lay across a broad plain, dotted about with small shrubs, and as we passed one of these, Ahmed noticed a snake, scared by our approach, trying to escape; he at once killed the reptile with a blow of his sword, then stretched out its body and jumped over it three times in a most excited way. Thereupon the guides congratulated each other, saying there was now nothing more to fear, and that we had conquered our enemies. This exhibition of courage on the part of the guides pleased me greatly. Once more we mounted and made our way towards Abu Hamed, where we intended to take water for the last time before entering the great Nubian desert.

The next night another snake episode occurred, but it ended rather differently. We were going across a stony place, when the leading camel suddenly swerved to one side, and we heard a hissing sound, which we knew must be a snake, but it was too dark to attempt to catch it. This greatly alarmed the Arabs, who looked upon it as an evil omen, and curiously enough, when close to Abu Hamed, an event did occur which quite confirmed their superstitions.

The next day, at about nine o'clock in the morning, we sighted the mountain which was our landmark indicating the place at which we intended to water. We anticipated reaching it in three hours, and there we intended to rest whilst the Arabs took the camels down to water; but somehow we went too far to the east, did not discover our mistake for some time, and it was midnight instead of midday when we reached the hill. This hill is shaped rather like two skittles, between which the road runs, and the wind, blowing through this narrow funnel, almost carried us off our camels.

Ahmed warned us to keep perfect silence as we scrambled down the rocky slope, and reached the river at last; here the mighty stream flows rapidly and silently at the foot of a great rock cliff, the stillness being occasionally broken by the splash of the many fish which delight to disport themselves in these cool depths. This watering-place is known as Meshra Dehesh, and is about six miles south of Abu Hamed. A few dÔm palms and shrubs have gained a slender footing on the steep bank, and the reflection of the bright stars in the silent river could not but make one feel impressed with the grand solitude of the place. I bent down, scooped up the water in my hands, and refreshed my parched throat; then we took the saddles off the camels, filled our water-skins, and ate some biscuits; I wanted to bathe my face and eyes, which ached with the burning of the sun and sand, but Ahmed gave the word to mount.

We were too stiff and weak to be able to stand upright, and as for the poor sisters, Ahmed had to lift them bodily off the ground and put them on their camels; they were far too exhausted to speak; we led the camels out of the stony gorge, intending to mount when we reached the level. It was long past midnight, and we were congratulating ourselves on having passed the last critical point, hoping that by dawn we should have left the river, which here bends to the west, far behind us.

"WE HAD SCARCELY GONE TWENTY PACES FROM THE RIVER, WHEN SUDDENLY WE HEARD THE SOUND OF A CAMEL."