Two weeks after leaving the district of Wadi Halfa the caravan entered the land that had been conquered by the Mahdi. They galloped over the hilly desert of El-Gesireh (Dschesirah) and in the vicinity of Schendi, where the English had previously inflicted a crushing defeat upon Musa’s army, they crossed a district which in nowise resembled a desert. Here there were no sand plains or hillocks. As far as the eye could reach extended a steppe of partly green grass and jungle, where grew groups of the prickly acacias that yield the well-known Sudanese rubber. Here and there they came across enormous trees with such wide-spreading branches that a hundred people could take shelter from the sun under them. From time to time the caravan passed high, pillar-like hills covered with ants, which grow all over equatorial Africa. The green of the pastures and acacias, after the monotonous dull color of the desert sand, was more than grateful to the eye. Here Stasch and Nell for the first time beheld enormous zizyphus^[8] trees and equally large oaks. They also saw large dog-headed baboons, that on catching sight of Saba showed their anger by their quick motions and by snarling, but did not venture to attack him.

In places where the steppe somewhat resembled a meadow a great many camels grazed, guarded by armed warriors of the Mahdi. At the sight of the caravan the guards jumped up like birds of prey, ran toward them, hemmed them in on all sides, and shaking their spears and crying aloud, questioned them as to where they came from, why they were coming from the north, and where they were going. Sometimes they assumed such a threatening manner that Idris was obliged to answer the questions at once to avoid being attacked.

Stasch, who had supposed that the only difference between the inhabitants of Sudan and the Arabs living in Egypt consisted in their belief in the Mahdi, and their unwillingness to recognize the authority of the Khedive, found that he had been greatly mistaken. Most of those who now constantly held up the caravan had a darker complexion than Idris and Gebhr, and, compared with the Bedouins, seemed almost black. There was more negro than Arabian blood in their veins. Their faces and the upper parts of their bodies were tattooed in various designs or with phrases from the Koran. Some of them were almost naked, others wore “Dschubis,” or coats of white woolen texture, finished off with colored patches. Many had branches of coral or pieces of ivory drawn through their noses, lips, and ears. The chiefs covered their heads with white caps, of the same material as their coats. The ordinary soldiers were bareheaded, but their skulls were not shaven like those of the Arabs of Egypt; on the contrary, they were covered with coarse, disheveled hair, which was often colored red and almost burned up by the chalk with which it was rubbed as a protection against vermin. Their weapons were mostly spears, which they could wield with fatal dexterity, and they had plenty of Remington rifles, captured in their victorious battles with the Egyptian army, and also after the fall of Khartum. On the whole, their appearance was enough to frighten any one. Their behavior toward the caravan was hostile, for they suspected that it was made up of Egyptian merchants, whom the Mahdi had, directly after the victory, forbidden to enter Sudan. While they surrounded the caravan they screamed and brandished their spears at the breasts of the men, or pointed the barrels of their guns at them, whereupon Idris’ voice arose above their shrieks; he told them that he and his brother belonged to the Dangali tribe, the same to which the Mahdi belonged, and that they were taking the white children as prisoners to the prophet. This alone withheld the savages from laying violent hands on them. When at last Stasch fully realized this terrible truth, his heart was heavy at the thought of what they still had to look forward to during the days that were to follow. Even Idris, who had lived for years in a civilized land, could not imagine anything more dreadful; and he was glad when an armed division of the Emir Nur-el-Tadhil surrounded their caravan one evening and took them to Khartum.

Before Nur-el-Tadhil had fled to the Mahdi he had been an officer in one of the Khedive’s negro regiments, and since he was not so savage as the other Mahdists, Idris was better able to get along with him. But even here he was doomed to be disappointed. He had imagined that his arrival with white children in the camp of the Mahdi would, in consideration of the terrible fatigue and the dangers of the journey, arouse admiration. He hoped that the Mahdists would receive him enthusiastically and lead him in triumph to the prophet, and that the latter would lavish gold and praise upon him who had rendered such service to his relative, Fatima. But the Mahdists brandished their spears against the caravan, while Nur-el-Tadhil listened languidly to the description of the journey. When at last he was asked if he knew Smain, the husband of Fatima, he said:

“No; in Omdurman and Khartum there are more than a hundred thousand warriors, so it is impossible for them to know one another; even all the officers are not acquainted. The kingdom of the prophet is exceedingly large and therefore many emirs rule over the distant towns in the districts of Sennaar, Kordofan, Darfur, and near Fashoda. It may be that this Smain of whom you speak is not in the neighborhood of the prophet just now.”

Idris felt rather hurt by the disdainful tone with which Nur spoke of “this Smain,” and so he answered rather impatiently:

“Smain is married to a cousin of the Mahdi, and thus Smain’s children are relatives of the prophet.”

“The Mahdi has many relatives and can not remember them all.”

For a while they rode on in silence, then Idris again asked:

“When shall we arrive in Khartum?”

“Before midnight,” answered Tadhil, looking at the stars, which began to appear on the western side of the heavens.

“Shall I be able to get provisions and fodder at such a late hour? We have not eaten anything since our noon-day rest.”

“You may sleep and eat at my house to-night, but to-morrow, in Omdurman, you must provide your own food, and I warn you in advance it will not be very easy.”

“Why?”

“On account of the war. The people have not cultivated the fields in many years, but have lived on meat, and when the cattle gave out a famine ensued. Throughout the entire south a famine reigns, and to-day a sack of maize costs more than a slave.”

“Allah Akbar!” cried Idris, astonished. “Did I not see a great many camels and herds of cattle on the steppe?”

“Those belong to the prophet, to the nobles,^[9] and the califs. Yes, the Dangalis, from whose tribe come the Mahdi, and the Baggars, whose chieftain is the chief calif Abdullah, still have herds in plenty, but life is harder and harder for the other tribes.”

Here Nur-el-Tadhil tapped his stomach and said:

“In the service of the prophet I have a higher place, more money, and greater power, but in the service of the Khedive I had a larger stomach.”

As he feared he might have said too much, he added:

“But this will all be a thing of the past when the true faith conquers.”

When Idris heard this remark he unconsciously thought of how he, too, when in Fayoum and in the service of the English, had never suffered from hunger, and that he could easily earn money, and he became very sad.

Then he asked more questions:

“So to-morrow you will take us to Omdurman?”

“Yes. By order of the prophet, Khartum is to be depopulated, and there are now very few people there. The larger houses are being pulled down, and the material will be taken along with the remaining spoil to Omdurman. The prophet will not live in a town that is tainted by unbelievers.”

“To-morrow I shall fall at his feet, and he will have me supplied with provisions and fodder.”

“Ha! If you really belong to the tribe of Dangali perhaps you may be admitted to his presence. But you must know that his house is guarded night and day by a hundred men armed with scourges, who do not spare their blows on those who attempt to reach the Mahdi without permission. Otherwise the people would not give the holy man a minute’s peace.”

“Allah! I myself have seen Dangalis with bloody stripes on their backs.”

Every minute Idris’ disappointment increased.

“So the believers,” he asked, “can not see the prophet?”

“The believers see him daily at the place of prayer, when he kneels on a sheepskin and raises his hands to God, or when he teaches the people and strengthens them in their faith. But it is very difficult to be admitted to his presence and to talk to him, and whoever is allowed this happiness attracts the jealousy of every one else, for upon him God’s grace descends, blotting out his past sins.”

Now suddenly it grew dark, and became piercing cold. In the ranks of the caravan the horses could be heard neighing, and the sudden change from the heat of the day to the cold was so great that the steam arose from the horses, and the party rode as through a mist. Stasch leaned over behind Idris’ back toward Nell and asked:

“Are you not cold?”

“No,” answered the girl, “but—there will be no one to protect us——”

Tears drowned the rest of the sentence.

Stasch was unable to find words to comfort her, for he felt convinced that they would not regain their freedom. They were now in a land of misery, of bestial cruelty, and of bloodshed. They were like two miserable little leaves in the midst of a storm, which not only brought death and destruction to individuals, but to whole towns and tribes. What hand could save two small, helpless children?

The moon slowly arose in the heavens and turned the branches of the mimosas and acacias into silver feathers. In the thick jungles sounded the shrill, joyous laughter of the hyenas, who in this bloodthirsty stretch of land found more human corpses than they could devour. From time to time the division which led the caravan met other patrols and exchanged the arranged password with them. At last they climbed down the high banks and reached the Nile through a long ravine. The people, horses, and camels were shipped on large barges, and soon the measured sweep of the heavy oars cut the smooth surface of the water, illuminated by the light of the myriad stars.

Half an hour later lights could be seen on the southern side, toward which the boats were steering, and the nearer they approached this cluster of lights, the more brilliant was the red glow reflected on the water. Nur-el-Tadhil nudged Idris, then pointed with his hand and said:

“Khartum!”

They halted at the farther end of the town, in front of a house which formerly belonged to a rich Italian merchant, who had been killed during the attack on the town, and afterward, when the spoils were divided, the house had fallen to Tadhil’s share. The wives of the emir were gentle and kind to Nell, who was nearly dead from fatigue, and although food was very scarce in Khartum, they found a few dried dates and some rice and honey for the little one; then they led the child to the top floor and put her to bed. Stasch, who spent the night in the open between the camels and horses, had to content himself with a zwieback, but he had plenty of water, for strange to say the fountain in the garden had not been destroyed. Although he was very tired, he could not get to sleep for a long while. He was kept awake by the scorpions, which crept all night over the cloth rug on which he lay, and then again because he was deathly afraid that he might be separated from Nell and not be able to watch over her any longer. Saba, who continually sniffed around, and howled from time to time, annoying the soldiers, seemed to be equally worried. Stasch quieted him as best he could, fearing that some one might harm him. The enormous creature, however, was greatly admired by the emir and by all the Dervishes, and no one would have attempted to injure him in any way.

Nor did Idris sleep. He had felt indisposed all day, and besides this, after his talk with Nur-el-Tadhil many of his illusions had been dispelled, and he saw the future now as through a dark veil. He was glad that on the morrow they were to travel on to Omdurman, which is only separated from Khartum by the White Nile. He hoped to find Smain, but what then? During the journey everything had looked clear and distinct and so much grander to him. He frankly believed in the prophet, and his heart was drawn more toward him because they both belonged to the same tribe. But, like most Arabs, he was also greedy for gain, and ambitious. He had imagined that he would be deluged with gold, and that he would at least be made an emir, and dreamed of campaigns against the “Turks,” of captured towns, and spoils. But now, from what Tadhil had told him, he began to fear that on account of exceedingly important events that had taken place, his deeds would disappear like rain in the ocean. “Perhaps,” he thought with bitter regret, “scarcely any one will pay any attention to what I have done, and Smain will not even be grateful that I have brought him these children.” This thought vexed him. The approaching day would decide whether or not his fears were well founded, and he waited for it impatiently.

At six o’clock the sun rose, and the Dervishes began to bestir themselves. Shortly after Tadhil appeared and ordered them to get ready to depart. He told them also that until they reached the place where they crossed the river they would have to walk alongside of his horse.

To Stasch’s great joy, Dinah brought Nell down from the top floor; then they went through the whole town, following the wall, until they came to the place where their transports were moored. Tadhil rode in front, and behind him came Stasch leading Nell by the hand; they were followed by Idris, Gebhr, and Chamis, old Dinah and Saba and thirty of the emir’s soldiers. The rest of the caravan remained in Khartum.

Stasch looked around with interest. He could not understand how such a strongly fortified town—which lay in a fork made by the White Nile and the Blue Nile, and therefore surrounded on three sides by water, and only accessible from the south—could fall. But later the Christian slaves told him that the water in the river at that time was so low that wide plains of sand were laid bare, and this made the walls much more accessible. The garrison had given up all hope of succor; the soldiers, exhausted by hunger, were unable to stem the rush of the angry tribes, and so the town was captured and the inhabitants slain. Although a month had passed since the invasion, traces of the fight could be seen all along the wall, on the inside of which towered ruined houses, which were the objects of the conquerors’ first onslaught, and the moat running around the fortress was choked with corpses, which no one seemed inclined to bury.

On their way to the river-crossing Stasch counted more than four hundred bodies, which the Sudanese sun had dried up like mummies. They were all the color of gray parchment, so that one could not distinguish which were Europeans, Egyptians, or negroes. Among the corpses moved numbers of small gray lizards, which on the approach of the caravan quickly flitted behind the human remains, taking refuge either in a mouth or between the shriveled ribs.

Stasch managed to prevent Nell seeing all of this terrible sight, and succeeded in directing her attention the other way, toward the town. But even there were scenes that filled the eyes and heart of the girl with horror.

The sight of the captured English children and of Saba, who was led on a leash by Chamis, attracted a crowd that increased every minute as the party approached the river-crossing. After a while such a mob collected that the party had to stop. On all sides threatening cries were heard. Terrible tattooed faces bent over Stasch and Nell. Most of the savages burst out laughing in derision when they saw them, beating their sides with joy; some cursed them, and others roared like wild beasts as they showed their white teeth and rolled their eyes. At last they began to threaten them and to brandish knives. Nell, half fainting from fright, clung close to Stasch, and he protected her as best he could, firmly convinced that their last hour had come. Fortunately Tadhil could no longer stand the angry crowd, and at his command some soldiers surrounded the children, while others began to beat the howling mob most mercilessly with scourges. Those in front dispersed, but still a great crowd followed the party with savage yells until they had boarded the boats.

The children breathed freely again while crossing the river. Stasch consoled Nell by telling her that when the Dervishes became accustomed to seeing them they would cease to threaten them, and he assured her that Smain would protect and defend them both, and especially her, for if anything serious were to happen to them he would have no one to exchange for his own children. That was true, but the attacks they had just encountered so terrified the girl that she seized Stasch’s hand and would not let go of it for a second; at the same time she cried out over and over again in a feverish way, “I’m afraid! I’m afraid!” Stasch wished with all his heart that they would reach Smain as soon as possible, for he had known them for some time and had been very friendly to them in Port Said, or at least had feigned to be. At any rate, he was not so savage as the other Sudanese and Dangalis, and captivity in his house would be more endurable than this.

He wondered if Smain were known in Omdurman. Idris broached the subject to Nur-el-Tadhil, and the latter at last remembered that a year before, through orders given by Calif Abdullah, who lived in Kordofan, quite a distance from Khartum, he had heard of a person of that name. This Smain had taught the Dervishes how to fire the cannon captured from the Egyptians, and later had become a great slave-hunter. He gave Idris the following instructions in regard to seeing the emir:

“When you hear the sound of the umbaja^[10] in the afternoon, be with the children at the place of prayer, where the prophet goes daily to inspire the faithful with an example of piety and to strengthen their belief. There you will see the Mahdi himself and all the nobles, also the three califs, the pashas, and the emirs, and among the emirs you can surely pick out Smain.”

“What shall I do and where shall I go until the time for afternoon prayers?”

“You will remain with my soldiers.”

“And you, Nur-el-Tadhil, will you leave us?”

“I must go to Calif Abdullah for my orders.”

“Is he the greatest of the Califs? I come from a distance, and although I have been told the names of the leaders, I would welcome further information regarding them.”

“Abdullah, my leader, is the Mahdi’s sword.”

“May Allah make him the son of victory!”

For a while the boats went silently along. All was still save for the sliding of the oars against the thole-pins; now and then the furious splashing of water lashed into foam by the tails of disturbed crocodiles was heard. Many of these reptiles had come up the river from the south as far as Khartum; here they found plenty of food, for the river was strewn with corpses, the bodies of those slain when the town was attacked as well as of those who had died of the diseases that raged among the Mahdists, especially among their slaves. The califs had ordered that the water should not be polluted, but this had been completely disregarded, and the bodies that the crocodiles did not deign to touch floated face downward as far as the sixth cataract, and still farther, even as far as Barbary.

But Idris was now thinking of something else; after a while he said:

“We had nothing to eat this morning; are we to go hungry till the hour of prayer, and who will supply us with food later on?”

“You are not a slave,” answered Tadhil; “you can go to the market where provisions are sold. You can get dried meat and perhaps some millet there, but you will have to pay a high price, for, as I have told you, there is a famine in Omdurman.”

“And during my absence wicked people might carry off the children or kill them.”

“The soldiers will guard them; or if you give one of them some money he will go and procure food for you.”

This was not very acceptable advice to Idris, who much preferred accepting money to giving it; but before he answered the boats had landed.

To the children Omdurman looked quite different from Khartum, where there were brick houses several stories high, the “Moodiria” (the palace of the governor, in which the heroic Gordon fell), a church, a hospital, mission-houses, an arsenal, many military garrisons, and a number of large and small gardens with the plentiful, luxuriant vegetation of the equatorial districts, whereas Omdurman looked more like a camp of savages. The fortress, which stood on the northern side of the settlement, had been destroyed by order of Gordon. As far as could be seen the town consisted only of round, ball-shaped huts of millet straw. Narrow hedges of thorns separated these little houses from one another and from the street. Only here and there were tents, which seemed to have been captured from the Egyptians. In other places a few palm mats, under a piece of dirty canvas stretched on bamboo rods, formed the entire dwelling. The inhabitants took refuge within their houses when it rained or when the heat was especially oppressive; but at other times they lived in the open air, where they made their fires, cooked their food, and lived and died. There was so much confusion in the streets that in some places the party had the greatest difficulty in passing through the crowds. Omdurman had formerly been a wretched little village, but the population was now more than twenty thousand, including the slaves. Even the Mahdi and his califs were alarmed that so many people were threatened with hunger and sickness, and expeditions were constantly sent northward to conquer the towns and districts that still remained loyal to the Egyptian Government.

At the sight of the white children the multitude occasionally shouted in a menacing manner, but did not threaten them with death as had the mob in Khartum. Perhaps the rabble did not dare do so in the immediate vicinity of the Mahdi, or they may have become accustomed to seeing prisoners, who had all been taken to Omdurman when Khartum had fallen. But to Stasch and Nell it was a hell on earth. They beheld Europeans and Egyptians bleeding from whiplashings on their bare flesh, and all but starved, used as beasts of burden and dying under their heavy loads. They saw women and children of European birth, from homes of ease and comfort—dressed in rags and lean as ghosts, whose white faces utter wretchedness had turned black—begging for a mouthful of dried meat or a handful of maize, their starved, wild demeanor telling of terror and despair. They noted how the savages scoffed when they saw these miserable prisoners, and how they were pushed about and beaten. In every side street or little lane scenes were enacted from which the eyes turned away in horror and affright. In Omdurman a terrible epidemic of dysentery, typhoid, and smallpox prevailed. The sick, covered with sores, lay at the entrances of the huts, polluting the air. The prisoners were forced to drag through the streets the canvas-shrouded corpses of those who had just died and inter them in the sand outside of the town, where hyenas attended to the real burial. Over the town hovered flocks of vultures, whose lazy-flapping wings cast mournful shadows on the bright sand. When Stasch saw this he thought that the sooner he and Nell died the better it would be for them.

But even in this sea of misery and inhumanity deeds of kindly pity occasionally blossomed like tiny pale flowers rising from a foul swamp.

In Omdurman were a number of Greeks and Copts, whom the Mahdi had spared because he had use for them. These men went around not only unmolested, but even carried on their different avocations, and some of them, especially those who had made a pretense of changing their faith, had become officials of the prophet, which made them quite important in the eyes of the wild Dervishes. One of these Greeks stopped the party and began to question the children, asking where they came from. When to his great surprise he heard that they had been carried off from Fayoum and had only just arrived, he promised to tell the Mahdi about them and to inquire after them as soon as practicable. At the same time he bent his head sorrowfully over Nell and gave each of the children a lot of wild figs and a piece of money of Marie Therese coinage. He then warned the soldiers against harming the girl in any way and went off, saying in English, “Poor little bird!”

After passing along very tortuous little streets they at last reached the market-place, which stood in the middle of the town. On the way they saw many people who had had a hand or foot amputated. These were thieves or evil-doers, who had secreted spoil. Terrible punishments were meted out by the califs and emirs to those who disobeyed the laws of the prophet, and even for small transgressions—such, for instance, as smoking tobacco—the culprits were beaten until they lay bleeding and unconscious. But the califs themselves subscribed only outwardly to the rules of the prophet, while at home they did as they pleased, so that these punishments fell only on the poor, whose goods and chattels they at the same time confiscated. There was nothing left for the miserable people to do but to beg, and as there was great scarcity of food in Omdurman, they succumbed to hunger.

Therefore there were crowds of beggars at the places where provisions were sold. The first thing that attracted the attention of the children was a head stuck on the end of a bamboo rod placed in the center of the round market-place. The face was shriveled and almost black, while the hair and beard were white as milk. One of the soldiers told Idris that this was the head of Gordon. At this Stasch was overcome with grief, indignation, and a burning desire for revenge; yet he was so frightened that the blood seemed to cease flowing in his veins. This was the fate of the hero, the fearless and blameless knight, the just and good man, who was beloved even in Sudan. And the English, who had not come to his assistance in time, but had rather withdrawn their aid, now abandoned his remains, exposed to ridicule, without giving them the honor of Christian burial. From that moment Stasch lost all faith in the English. Until now he had naÏvely believed that England, if the least wrong were done to one of her countrymen, was always ready to challenge the whole world. Until now in the depths of his soul there had always glimmered a ray of hope that, the search proving unsuccessful, English troops would be sent as far as Khartum, and even farther, to protect Mr. Rawlison’s daughter. Now he knew but too well that Khartum and the whole country was in the hands of the Mahdi, and that the Egyptian Government, and England, too, would think rather of protecting themselves from further attacks than of devising means for the release of European prisoners.

He realized that he and Nell had fallen into an abyss from which there was no possible means of escape, and these thoughts, in addition to the horrors he had witnessed in the streets of Omdurman, were the last straw. His usual elasticity and energy were replaced by complete and irresistible submission to his fate and anxiety for the future. He gazed around almost languidly at the market-place and the stands, at which Idris was bargaining for food. Here the street merchants, chiefly Sudanese women and negresses, sold Dschubis (white linen smocks with different colored trimmings), acacia-rubber, hollowed-out bottle-gourds, glass beads, sulphur, and all kinds of mats. There were benches where provisions were on sale, and around these a large crowd gathered. The Mahdists bought at high prices chiefly pieces of dried meat of domestic animals, buffaloes, antelopes, and giraffes. But there were absolutely no dates, figs, or maize. Once in a while they sold water mixed with the honey of wild bees and millet seeds soaked in an infusion of tamarinds. Idris was in despair, for he saw that the market prices were so high that he would soon spend all the money given him by Fatima for provisions, and then he would be obliged to beg. His only hope now lay in Smain. Strangely enough, at this very moment Stasch, too, relied on Smain’s help.

Half an hour later Nur-el-Tadhil returned from the calif. Apparently something disagreeable had happened to him there, for he was in a very bad humor, and when Idris asked him whether he had heard anything about Smain, he answered him abruptly:

“You fool, do you suppose that the calif and I have nothing better to do than to find Smain for you?”

“What do you intend me to do now?”

“Do what you please. I have allowed you to spend the night in my house, and I have given you much good advice, and now I do not wish to hear from you again.”

“All right; but where shall I find shelter for the night?”

“That is no affair of mine.”

With these words he departed, taking the soldiers with him. Idris could hardly beg him to send the caravan and the Arabs who had joined them between Assuan and Wadi Halfa, to him in the market-place. These people had only arrived at mid-day, and then it was evident that none of them knew what to do. The two Sudanese began to quarrel with Idris and Gebhr, declaring that they had imagined that they would have a very different reception, and that they had purposely been deceived. After lengthy discussions and consultations they decided to erect on the outskirts of the town tents of fir branches and bamboo, in which to seek shelter for the night, and then to wait and leave the rest to Providence.

When they had finished the tents, which did not take long to build, all the Sudanese and negroes, except Chamis, who was to prepare the evening meal, went off to the public place of prayer. It was easy to find, for crowds from all sections of Omdurman were going there. The place was spacious, bordered by a hedge of thorns and partly by a clay wall, which had just been commenced. In the center was a wooden platform, on which the prophet stood while instructing the people. On the ground, in front of the tribune, sheepskins were spread out for the Mahdi, the calif, and the more important sheiks. At the sides the flags of the Empire were hoisted. The banners fluttered in the wind and shone like large variegated flowers. The four sides of the place were lined with crowded rows of Dervishes. All around could be seen towering forests of spears, with which nearly all the warriors were armed.

It was lucky for Idris and Gebhr, as well as for the rest of the caravan, that they were considered followers of one of the emirs, and therefore could get in the front ranks of the crowd. The arrival of the Mahdi was first announced by the far-reaching and solemn umbaja, and when he appeared sharp whistles, the beating of drums, the clattering of stones shaken in empty bottle-gourds, rang out, all combining in a most infernal racket. The people were beside themselves with enthusiasm. Some fell on their knees, others cried out as loud as they could, “Oh, you are sent from God!” “Oh, victorious one!” “Oh, merciful one!” “Oh, pitying one!” and kindred exclamations, that lasted until the Mahdi stepped into the pulpit. Then amid dead silence he raised his hands, put his thumbs in his ears, and prayed for a while. The children stood quite near and could see him very well. He was a man of middle age, singularly corpulent and bloated, and nearly black. Stasch, who was an especially quick observer, noticed that his face was tattooed and that he wore a large ivory ring in one ear. He was dressed in a white coat and had a white cap on his head; his feet were bare, for before he mounted the pulpit he had removed his red half-high shoes and left them on the sheepskins, where he was afterward going to pray. There was not the least attempt at luxury in his dress, but occasionally the wind blew a strong and pleasing odor of sandalwood^[11] from him, which the believers greedily sniffed up their noses, at the same time rolling their eyes with delight. Stasch had imagined the terrible prophet, the robber and murderer of so many thousands, to be quite a different looking person, and whilst gazing at this fat face with its mild expression and tearful eyes, and with a smile constantly hovering about the lips, he could not conceal his surprise. He thought that such a man would have the head of a hyena or a crocodile, but instead he saw before him a fat-cheeked gourd with a face like a full moon.

The prophet began his teaching. His deep and ringing voice could be heard over all the place, so that every word reached the ears of the believers. He now spoke of the punishments inflicted by God on those who do not follow the laws of the Mahdi, but instead conceal spoil, get drunk, steal, spare the enemy in war, and smoke tobacco. These crimes, he said, would result in Allah’s sending down upon such sinners hunger and that sickness which honeycombs the face.^[12] This earthly life is like a vessel with a hole in it. Riches and pleasures sink in the sand. True belief is like a cow that gives sweet milk. But Paradise is open to the victor only. Those who conquer the enemy will gain salvation. Those who die for the faith will live forever and ever. Happy, a hundred times happy, are those who have already fallen——

“We will die for the faith!” cried the people in a loud voice.

Soon after the infernal noise began again. Trumpets and drums resounded. The warriors beat sword against sword and spear against spear. The warlike enthusiasm seized every one like a flame. Some cried out, “The faith is victory!” Others, “By death to Paradise!” Then Stasch understood why the Egyptian soldiers could not resist these wild tribes.

When quiet was somewhat restored the prophet began to speak again. He told of the visions he frequently had and about the mission he had received from God. Allah had commanded him to purify the faith and to spread it over the whole world. And he said that any one not recognizing him as the Mahdi, the saviour, would be condemned to destruction. The end of the world is near, but before it comes it is the duty of the believers to conquer Egypt, Mecca, and all the lands on the other side of the sea, where the heathen dwell. That is the will of God, and nothing can change it. Much blood will still be shed, many warriors will not return to their wives and children in their tents, but no human tongue can portray the happiness of those who fall in the cause.

Then he stretched out his hands toward the assembled multitude, and closing, said:

“I, the saviour, and servant of God, bless the holy war and you warriors. I bless your fatigue, your wounds, your death. I bless the victory, and mourn for you as a father who loves you.”

He burst into tears. When he left the pulpit screams and wailing rent the air. Every one wept. The two califs, Abdullah and Ali-uled-Helu, gave their arms to the Mahdi to support him, and led him to the sheepskin, on which he knelt. During this short moment Idris feverishly asked Stasch whether Smain was not among the emirs.

“No!” replied the boy, who with his sharp eyes had searched in vain for the well-known face. “I can not see him anywhere. Perhaps he fell in the attack on Khartum.”

Nor could Chamis, who had known Smain in Port Said, find him. The prayers lasted a long while. The Mahdi moved his hands and legs like a circus-clown, then raised his eyes in ecstasy, while repeating: “There is God! There he is!” And as the sun was about to set he arose and walked homeward.

The children now saw with what reverence the Dervishes surrounded their prophet, for crowds followed his footsteps and scraped up the earth on which he had trodden. This led to quarrels and fights, for the people believed that this earth would secure health to the well and also cure the sick. Gradually the crowd left the place of prayer. Idris did not know what was best to do, and he had just decided to return to the tents for the night with the children and all the baggage, when the same Greek who had given Stasch and Nell the dates and coin that morning stood before them.

“I have spoken to the Mahdi about you,” he said in Arabic, “and the prophet wishes to see you.”

“Thanks to Allah and to you, sir!” cried Idris. “Shall we find Smain again by the Mahdi’s side?”

“Smain is in Fashoda,” answered the Greek. Then he said to Stasch in English:

“Perhaps the prophet will take you under his protection, for I have done my best to get him to do so. I told him that the fame of his mercy would spread abroad throughout all the white nations. Terrible things are happening all around us, and unless you are under his protection you will surely succumb to hunger, privation, and sickness from the treatment you will receive at the hands of these madmen. But he must be kept interested in you.”

“What shall I do, sir?” asked Stasch.

“When you first come into his presence, fall on your knees, and when he gives you his hand, kiss it respectfully and beseech him to take you both under his protecting wing.”

Here the Greek stopped and asked:

“Do none of these people understand English?”

“No. Chamis has remained in the tent, and Idris and Gebhr only understand a few words, and the others not a word.”

“That’s well. Listen to what I say, for everything must be planned in advance. The Mahdi will ask you whether you are prepared to accept his faith. Immediately answer that you are prepared, and that his presence had from the first shed a peculiar light of grace upon you. Remember, a peculiar light of grace! That will flatter him and he will include you among his personal servants. Then you will have luxuries and every comfort, which will prevent you from becoming ill. But if you act differently you will endanger yourself and this poor little thing, and also me, the one who wishes you well. Do you understand?”

Stasch clenched his teeth and made no answer, but his face became rigid and his eyes had a strange light in them. The Greek, noticing this, continued:

“My boy, I know that this is a disagreeable matter, but there is nothing else to be done! All those who were spared after the bloody massacre in Khartum have accepted the faith of the Mahdi. The Catholic missionaries and nuns did not accept it, but that is a different matter. The Koran forbids the murdering of priests, and although their fate is terrible enough, yet at least they are not threatened with death. But for people of other classes that was the only means of escape. I repeat, every one accepted Mohammedanism—the Germans, Italians, Copts, English, Greeks—even I myself.”

And although Stasch had assured him that not one in the caravan understood English, his voice sank to a whisper:

“I do not need to tell you that this step does not mean a denial of the Faith or treason or apostasy. In his soul each one remains what he was before, and God knows this. One must bend to power, if only apparently. It is a man’s duty to defend his life, and it would be madness, yes, even sin, to endanger it—and for what reason? For the mere sake of appearances, for the sake of a few words spoken, which even when you utter them you can inwardly deny. Besides, remember in your hands lies not only your own life, but also the life of your little companion, whose fate you have no right to decide. I assure you that when the time comes for God to deliver you from the hands of these people, you will have nothing with which to reproach yourself, and no one will reproach you—no more than any of us——”

While the Greek talked to the boy in this way, perhaps he deceived his own conscience, but Stasch’s silence also deceived him, for he at last mistook it for fear. So he tried to encourage the boy.

“These are the houses of the Mahdi,” he said. “He prefers staying in these wooden huts here in Omdurman rather than to live in Khartum, although he could have taken possession of Gordon’s palace. Keep up your courage! Don’t lose your head! Answer all questions promptly and with decision. Here they admire every form of courage. Don’t imagine that the Mahdi will roar at you like a lion. No! He always smiles—even when he does not contemplate any good deeds.”

As he spoke these words he called to the crowd standing before the house to make room for the “guests” of the prophet.