Chapter 16. A Voice From The Dead

________________________________________________
_ That afternoon, Gregory heard that orders had been issued for five of the gunboats to start up the river, the first thing in the morning; that the Sirdar himself was going, and was to take up five hundred men of the 11th Soudanese. An order was also issued that all correspondents were to leave, the next day, for Cairo. Gregory had met one of them, that evening.

"So you are all off, I hear, Mr. Pearson?"

"Yes; we did have a sort of option given us, but it was really no choice at all. We might go down instantly, or we must stay till the last of the white troops had gone down. That may be a very long time, as there is no saying what may come of this Fashoda business. Besides, the Khalifa has fairly escaped; and if, out of the sixty thousand men with him, some thirty thousand got off, they may yet rally round him: and, in another two or three months, he may be at the head of as large a force as ever. I don't think, after the way the Egyptians fought the other day, there will be any need for white troops to back them. Still, it is likely that a battalion or two may be left. However, we had practically to choose between going at once, or waiting at least a month; and you may be sure that the censorship would be put on, with a round turn, and that we should not be allowed to say a word of the Fashoda business, which would be the only thing worth telegraphing about. So we have all voted for going.

"Of course, we understand that this pressure has been put upon us, on account of this curious affair at Fashoda. Fortunately, none of us are sorry to be off. There is certain to be a pause, now, for some time; and one does not want to be kicking one's heels about, in this ghastly town; and though it is rather sharp and peremptory work, I cannot say that I think the Sirdar is wrong. Whoever these men may be, they must go, that is certain; but of course it will be a somewhat delicate business, and France--that is, if they are Frenchmen who are there--is sure to be immensely sore over the business; and it is certainly very desirable that nothing should be written, from here, that could increase that feeling. I have no doubt the Sirdar telegraphed home, for instructions, as soon as he got the news of the affair; and I imagine that his going up in the morning, with five gunboats, is proof that he has already received instructions of some sort.

"I hope this force is not French. The feeling against us is tremendously strong, in France, and they certainly will not like backing down; but they will have to do that or fight and, with all their big talk, I don't think they are ready to risk a war with us; especially as, though their occupation of Fashoda would be an immense annoyance to us, it would be of no possible utility to them.

"By the way, we have all got to sell our horses. There is no possibility of taking them down, and it is a question of giving them away, rather than of selling; for, of course, the officers of the British regiments do not want to buy. I have a horse for which I gave twenty-five pounds, at Cairo. You are welcome to him. You can give me a couple of pounds, for the saddle and things."

"I am very much obliged to you, but it would be robbery."

"Not at all. If you won't take him, I shall have him shot, tonight. A horse could not possibly pick up food here, and would die of starvation without a master; and it would be still more cruel to give him to a native, for they are brutal horse masters."

"Well, in that case I shall be glad, indeed, to have him; and I am extremely obliged to you."

"That is right. If you will send your man round, I will hand it over to him."

"As you are going tomorrow, it is likely that I shall go with you; for I am going down, also, as far as Abu Hamed, for ten days."

"That will be pleasant, though I do not know that it will be so for you; for I own the majority of us are rather sour-tempered, at present. Though we may be glad enough to go, one does not care to be sent off at a moment's notice, just as fractious children are turned out of a room, when their elders want a private chat. However, for myself, I am not inclined to grumble. I want to go, and therefore I do not stand on the order of going."

Later, General Hunter gave Gregory an order, for a passage in a steamer on which the correspondents of the various newspapers were going down.

"What shall we take, master?" Zaki asked.

"Just the clothes we stand in, Zaki. I have got a couple of the Dervish Remingtons, and several packets of ammunition. I will take them, and I can get four more. We will take them all down, as we know the people about Hebbeh are not disposed to be friendly. I don't suppose, for a minute, that they are likely to show any hostile feeling; for you may be sure that the fall of Omdurman has spread, by this time, over the whole land, and they will be on their best behaviour. Still, it is just as well to be able to defend ourselves, and I shall engage four men at Abu Hamed to go with us. I shall leave all my kit here."

It was a pleasant run down the river, to Atbara. The correspondents were all heartily glad to be on their way home; and the irritation they had at first felt, at being so suddenly ordered away, at the moment when so unexpected and interesting a development occurred, had subsided. They had witnessed one of the most interesting battles ever fought, had seen the overthrow of the Mahdi, and were looking forward to European comforts and luxuries again.

At Atbara all left the steamer, which was to take in stores, and go up again at once; and proceeded, by a military train, with the first of the returned European regiments.

At Abu Hamed, Gregory left them. His first enquiry was whether any boats were going down the river. He learned that several native craft were leaving, and at once engaged a passage in one of them to Hebbeh. He had no difficulty, whatever, in engaging four sturdy Arabs from among those who were listlessly hanging round the little station. While he was doing this, Zaki bought food for six men, for a week; and in less than two hours from his arrival at Abu Hamed, Gregory was on board.

The boat at once dropped down the river and, as the current was running strongly, they were off Hebbeh next morning, at eight o'clock. A boat put off, and took Gregory and his party ashore. As they were seen to land, the village sheik at once came down to them.

"Is there anything I can do for my lord?" he asked.

"Yes; I have come here to ascertain whether any of those, who were present at the attack upon the party who landed from the steamer over there, are still living here. There is no question of punishment. On the contrary, I have come here to obtain information as to some private matters, and anyone who can give me that information will be well rewarded."

"There are but three men alive who were here at the time, my lord. There were more, but they fled when the boats with the white troops came up, from Merawi. I believe they went to the Dervish camp at Metemmeh.

"The three here are quiet and respectable men. They were asked many questions, and guided the white officers to the place where Wad Etman stood--it was there that those who landed from the steamer first rested--and to the place where the great house of Suleiman Wad Gamr, Emir of Salamat, stood.

"It was there that the much to be regretted attack on the white men was made. When the white army came up, six months afterwards, they blew up the house, and cut down all the palm trees in the village."

"I was with the force that came up from Merawi, last year. Will you bring me the three men you speak of? I would question them, one by one. Assure them that they need not be afraid of answering truthfully, even if they themselves were concerned in the attack upon the white officers, and the crew of the steamer, for no steps will be taken against them. It is eighteen years since then; and, no doubt, their houses were destroyed and their groves cut down, when the British column came here and found the place deserted. I am ready to reward them, if I obtain the information I require from them."

The three men were presently brought to the spot where Gregory had seated himself, in the shade of one of the huts. Zaki stood beside him, and the four armed men took post, a short distance away.

The first called up was a very old man. In reply to Gregory's questions, he said:

"I was already old when the steamboat ran ashore. I took no hand in the business; the white men had done me no harm, while the followers of the Mahdi had killed many of my family and friends. I heard what was going to be done, and I stayed in my house. I call upon Allah to witness that what I say is true!"

"Do you know if any remains of that expedition are still in existence?"

"No, my lord. When the white troops came here, some months afterwards, I fled, as all here did; but I know that, before they destroyed Wad Gamr's house, they took away some boxes of papers that had been brought ashore from the ship, and were still in the house. I know of nothing else. The clothes of the men on board the steamboat were divided among those who took part in the attack, but there was little booty."

Gregory knew that, at Wad Gamr's house, but few signs of the tragedy had been found when General Brackenbury's troops entered. Bloodstained visiting cards of Stewart's, a few scraps of paper, and a field glass had, alone, been discovered, besides the boxes of papers.

The next man who came up said that he had been with the party who fell upon the engineers and crew of the boat, by the riverside.

"I was ordered to kill them," he said. "Had I not done so, I should have been killed, myself."

"Do you know whether any booty was hidden away, before the English came?"

"No, my lord, there was no booty taken. No money was found on board the steamer. We stripped her of the brass work, and took the wood ashore, to burn. The sheik gave us a dollar and a half a man, for what we had done. There may have been some money found on the ship, but as his own men were on board first, and took all that they thought of value, I have naught to say about it."

"And you never heard of anything being hidden, before the British troops arrived?"

The Arab shook his head.

"No, my lord, but there may have been, though I never heard of it. I went and fought at Kirkeban; and when we were beaten, I fled at once to Berber, and remained there until the white troops had all gone down the country."

"I may want to question you again tomorrow," Gregory said. "Here are two dollars. I shall give you as much more, if I want you again."

The third man was then called up. He was evidently in fear.

"Do not be afraid to answer me truly," Gregory said. "If you do so, no harm will come to you, whatever share you may have had in the affair. But if you answer falsely, and the truth is afterwards discovered, you will be punished. Now, where were you when this business took place?"

"We were all ordered, by Wad Gamr, to gather near his house; and, when the signal was given, we were to run in and kill the white men. We saw them go up to the house. They had been told to leave their arms behind them. One of the sheik's servants came out and waved his arms, and we ran in and killed them."

"What happened then?"

"We carried the bodies outside the house. Then we took what money was found in their pockets, with watches and other things, in to the sheik; and he paid us a dollar and a half a head, and said that we could have their clothes. For my share, I had a jacket belonging to one of them. When I got it home, I found that there was a pocket inside, and in it was a book partly written on, and many other bits of paper."

"And what became of that?" Gregory asked, eagerly.

"I threw it into a corner. It was of no use to me. But when the white troops came up in the boats, and beat us at Kirkeban, I came straight home and, seeing the pocketbook, took it and hid it under a rock; for I thought that when the white troops got here, they would find it, and that they might then destroy the house, and cut down my trees. Then I went away, and did not come back until they had all gone."

"And where is the pocketbook, now?"

"It may be under the rock where I hid it, my lord. I have never thought of it, since. It was rubbish."

"Can you take me to the place?"

"I think so. It was not far from my house. I pushed it under the first great rock I came to, for I was in haste; and wanted to be away before the white soldiers, on camels, could get here."

"Did you hear of any other things being hidden?"

"No. I think everything was given up. If this thing had been of value I should, perhaps, have told the sheik; but as it was only written papers, and of no use to anyone, I did not trouble to do so."

"Well, let us go at once," Gregory said, rising to his feet. "Although of no use to you, these papers may be of importance."

Followed by Zaki and the four men, Gregory went to the peasant's house, which stood a quarter of a mile away.

"This is not the house I lived in, then," the man said. "The white troops destroyed every house in the village; but, when they had gone, I built another on the same spot."

The hill rose steeply, behind it. The peasant went on, till he stopped at a large boulder.

"This was the rock," he said, "where I thrust it under, as far as my arm would reach. I pushed it in on the upper side."

The man lay down.

"It was just about here," he said.

"It is here, my lord. I can just feel it, but I cannot get it out. I pushed it in as far as the tips of my fingers could reach it."

"Well, go down and cut a couple of sticks, three or four feet long."

In ten minutes, the man returned with them.

"Now take one of them and, when you feel the book, push the stick along its side, until it is well beyond it. Then you ought to be able to scrape it out. If you cannot do so, we shall have to roll the stone over. It is a big rock, but with two or three poles, one ought to be able to turn it over."

After several attempts, however, the man produced the packet. Gregory opened it, with trembling hands. It contained, as the man had said, a large number of loose sheets, evidently torn from a pocketbook, and all covered with close writing.

He opened the book that accompanied them. It was written in ink, and the first few words sufficed to tell him that his search was over. It began:

"Khartoum. Thank God, after two years of suffering and misery, since the fatal day at El Obeid, I am once again amongst friends. It is true that I am still in peril, for the position here is desperate. Still, the army that is coming up to our help may be here in time; and even if they should not do so, this may be found when they come, and will be given to my dear wife at Cairo, if she is still there. Her name is Mrs. Hilliard, and her address will surely be known, at the Bank."

"These are the papers I was looking for," he said to Zaki. "I will tell you about them, afterwards."

He handed ten dollars to the native, thrust the packet into his breast pocket, and walked slowly down to the river. He had never entertained any hope of finding his father, but this evidence of his death gave him a shock.

His mother was right, then. She had always insisted there was a possibility that he might have escaped the massacre at El Obeid. He had done so. He had reached Khartoum. He had started, full of hope of seeing his wife and child, but had been treacherously massacred, here.

He would not, now, read this message from the grave. That must be reserved for some time when he was alone. He knew enough to be able to guess the details--they could not be otherwise than painful. He felt almost glad that his mother was not alive. To him, the loss was scarcely a real one. His father had left him, when an infant. Although his mother had so often spoken of him, he had scarcely been a reality to Gregory; for when he became old enough to comprehend the matter, it seemed to him certain that his father must have been killed. He could, then, hardly understand how his mother could cling to hope.

His father had been more a real character to him, since he started from Cairo, than ever before. He knew the desert, now, and its fierce inhabitants. He could picture the battle and since the fight at Omdurman he had been able to see, before him, the wild rush on the Egyptian square, the mad confusion, the charge of a handful of white officers, and the one white man going off, with the black battalion that held together.

If, then, it was a shock to him to know how his father had died, how vastly greater would it have been, to his mother! She had pictured him as dying suddenly, fighting to the last, and scarce conscious of pain till he received a fatal wound. She had said, to Gregory, that it was better to think of his father as having died thus, than lingering in hopeless slavery, like Neufeld; but it would have been agony to her to know that he did suffer for two years, that he had then struggled on through all dangers to Khartoum, and was on his way back, full of hope and love for her, when he was treacherously murdered.

The village sheik met him, as he went down.

"You have found nothing, my lord?"

"Nothing but a few old papers," he said.

"You will report well of us, I hope, to the great English commander?"

"I shall certainly tell him that you did all in your power to aid me."

He walked down towards the river. One of the men, who had gone on while he had been speaking to the sheik, ran back to meet him.

"There is a steamer coming up the river, my lord."

"That is fortunate, indeed," Gregory exclaimed. "I had intended to sleep here, tonight, and to bargain with the sheik for donkeys or camels to take us back. This will save two days."

Two or three native craft were fastened up to the shore, waiting for a breeze to set in, strong enough to take them up. Gregory at once arranged, with one of them, to put his party on board the steamer, in their boat. In a quarter of an hour the gunboat approached, and they rowed out to meet her.

As she came up, Gregory stood up, and shouted to them to throw him a rope. This was done, and an officer came to the side.

"I want a passage for myself and five men, to Abu Hamed. I am an officer on General Hunter's staff."

"With pleasure.

"Have you come down from the front?" he asked, as Gregory stepped on board, with the five blacks.

"Yes."

"Then you can tell me about the great fight. We heard of it, at Dongola, but beyond the fact that we had thrashed the Khalifa, and taken Omdurman, we received no particulars.

"But before you begin, have a drink.

"It is horribly annoying to me," he went on, as they sat down under the awning, and the steward brought tumblers, soda water, some whisky, and two lemons.

Gregory refused the whisky, but took a lemon with his cold water.

"A horrible nuisance," the officer went on. "This is one of Gordon's old steamers; she has broken down twice. Still, I console myself by thinking that, even if I had been in time, very likely she would not have been taken up.

"I hope, however, there will be work to do, yet. As you see, I have got three of these native craft in tow, and it is as much as I can do to get them up this cataract.

"Now, please tell me about the battle."

Gregory gave him an outline of the struggle, of the occupation of Omdurman, and of what might be called the funeral service of Gordon, at Khartoum. It was dark before the story was finished.

"By the way," the officer said, as they were about to sit down to dinner, "while we were on deck, I did not ask about your men. I must order food to be given them."

"They have plenty," Gregory said. "I brought enough for a week with me. I thought that I might be detained two or three days, here, and be obliged to make the journey by land to Abu Hamed."

"I have not asked you what you were doing at this out of the way place, and how long you have been here."

"I only landed this morning. I came down to search for some relics. My father was on board Stewart's steamer, and as there would be nothing doing at Omdurman, for a few days, I got leave to run down. I was fortunate in securing a boat at Abu Hamed, on my arrival there; and I have been equally so, now, in having been picked up by you; so that I shall not be away from Omdurman more than seven days, if I have equal luck in getting a steamer at Atbara. I do not think I shall be disappointed, for the white troops are coming down, and stores are going up for the Egyptian brigade, so that I am certain not to be kept there many hours. The Sirdar has gone up to Fashoda, or I don't suppose I should have got leave."

"Yes. I heard at Merawi, from the officer in command, that some foreign troops had arrived there. I suppose nothing more is known about it?"

"No; no news will probably come down for another fortnight, perhaps longer than that."

"Who can they be?"

"The general idea is that they are French. They can only be French, or a party from the Congo States."

"They had tremendous cheek, whoever they are," the officer said. "It is precious lucky, for them, that we have given the Khalifa something else to think about, or you may be sure he would have wiped them out pretty quickly; unless they are a very strong force, which doesn't seem probable. I hear the Sirdar has taken a regiment up with him."

"Yes, but I don't suppose any actual move will be made, at present."

"No, I suppose it will be a diplomatic business. Still, I should think they would have to go."

"No one has any doubt about that, at Omdurman," Gregory said. "After all the expense and trouble we have had to retake the Soudan, it is not likely that we should let anyone else plant themselves on the road to the great lakes.

"When will you be at Abu Hamed, sir?"

"We shall be there about five o'clock--at any rate, I think you may safely reckon on catching the morning train. It goes, I think, at eight."

"I am sure to catch a train, soon, for orders have been sent down that railway materials shall be sent up, as quickly as possible; as it has been decided that the railway shall be carried on, at once, to Khartoum. I expect that, as soon as the Nile falls, they will make a temporary bridge across the Atbara."

It was six in the morning, when the steamer arrived at Abu Hamed. Gregory at once landed, paid his four men, went up to the little station; and, an hour later, was on his way to Atbara Fort. He had but two hours to wait there, and reached Omdurman at three o'clock, on the following afternoon. As he landed, he met an officer he knew.

"Is there any news?" he asked.

"Nothing but Fashoda is talked about. It has been ascertained that the force there is undoubtedly French. The betting is about even as to whether France will back down, or not. They have made it difficult for themselves, by an outburst of enthusiasm at what they considered the defeat of England. Well, of course, that does not go for much, except that it makes it harder for their government to give in."

"And has any news been received of the whereabouts of the Khalifa?"

"No. Broadwood, with two regiments of Egyptian cavalry and the camel corps, started in pursuit of the Khalifa and Osman, an hour after it was found that they had got away. Slatin Pasha went with them. But as the horses had been at work all day, they had to stop at half past eight. They could not then get down to the water, and bivouacked where they had halted. At four in the morning they started again, and at half past eight found a spot where they could get down to the river; then they rode fifteen miles farther.

"They were now thirty-five miles from Omdurman. One of the gunboats had gone up with supplies, but owing to the Nile having overflowed, could not get near enough to land them. Next morning they got news that the Khalifa was twenty-five miles ahead, and had just obtained fresh camels, so they were ordered to return to the town. They had picked up a good many of the fugitives, among them the Khalifa's favourite wife; who, doubtless with other women, had slipped away at one of his halting places, feeling unable to bear the constant fatigues and hardships of the flight in the desert.

"The cavalry have since been out again, but beyond the fact that the Khalifa had been joined by many of the fugitives from the battle, and was making for Kordofan, no certain news has been obtained. At present, nothing can be done in that direction.

"That horse you bought is all right."

"I really did not like taking him, for I already had one; and it looked almost like robbery, giving him two pounds for it, and the saddle."

"Others have done as well," the officer laughed. "One of the brigade staff bought a horse for a pound from Burleigh, who had given forty for it at Cairo. There was no help for it. They could not take horses down. Besides, it is not their loss, after all. The newspapers can afford to pay for them. They must have been coining money, of late."

"That reconciles me," Gregory laughed. "I did not think of the correspondents' expenses being paid by the papers."

"I don't know anything about their arrangements, but it stands to reason that it must be so, in a campaign like this. In an ordinary war, a man can calculate what his outlay might be; but on an expedition of this kind, no one could foretell what expenses he might have to incur.

"Besides, the Sirdar has saved the newspapers an enormous expenditure. The correspondents have been rigidly kept down to messages of a few hundred words; whereas, if they had had their own way, they would have sent down columns. Of course, the correspondents grumbled, but I have no doubt their employers were very well pleased, and the newspapers must have saved thousands of pounds, by this restriction."

"You are back sooner than I expected," General Hunter said, when Gregory went in and reported his arrival. "It is scarce a week since you left."

"Just a week, sir. Everything went smoothly, and I was but three or four hours at Hebbeh."

"And did you succeed in your search?"

"Yes, sir. I most fortunately found a man who had hidden a pocketbook he had taken from the body of one of the white men who were murdered there. There was nothing in it but old papers and, when Brackenbury's expedition approached, he had hidden it away; and did not give it a thought, until I enquired if he knew of any papers, and other things, connected with those on board the steamer. He at once took me to the place where he had hidden it, under a great stone, and it turned out to be the notebook and journals of my father; who was, as I thought possible, the white man who had arrived at Khartoum, a short time before the place was captured by the Dervishes, and who had gone down in the steamer that carried Colonel Stewart."

"Well, Hilliard," the General said, kindly, "even the certain knowledge of his death is better than the fear that he might be in slavery. You told me you had no remembrance of him?"

"None, sir; but of course, my mother had talked of him so often, and had several photographs of him--the last taken at Cairo, before he left--so that I almost seem to have known him. However, I do feel it as a relief to know that he is not, as I feared was remotely possible, a slave among the Baggara. But I think it is hard that, after having gone through two years of trials and sufferings, he should have been murdered on his way home."

"No doubt that is so. Have you read your father's diary, yet?"

"No, sir; I have not had the heart to do so, and shall put it off, until the shock that this has given me has passed away. I feel that a little hard work will be the best thing for me. Is there any chance of it?"

"You have just returned in time. I am going up the Blue Nile, tomorrow morning, to clear out the villages; which, no doubt, are all full of fugitives. I am glad that you have come back. I was speaking of you today to General Rundle, who is in command.

"One of the objects of the expedition is to prevent Fadil from crossing the river. He was advancing from Gedareh, at the head of ten thousand troops, to join the Khalifa; and was but forty miles away, on the day after we took this place; but when he received the news of our victory, he fell back. If he can cross, he will bring a very formidable reinforcement to the Khalifa.

"We know that Colonel Parsons started from Kassala, on the 7th, his object being to capture Gedareh, during the absence of Fadil. He is to cross the Atbara at El Fasher, and will then march up this bank of the river, till he is at the nearest point to Gedareh. It is probable that he will not strike across before the 18th, or the 20th. His force is comparatively small, and we do not know how large a garrison Fadil will have left there.

"Altogether, we are uneasy about the expedition. It is very desirable that Parsons should know that Fadil is retiring, and that, so far as we can learn from the natives, he has not yet crossed the Blue Nile. Gedareh is said to be a strong place, and once there, Parsons might hold it against Fadil until we can send him reinforcements.

"In order to convey this information to him, we require someone on whom we can absolutely rely. I said that, if you were here, I felt sure that you would volunteer for the service. Of course it is, to a certain extent, a dangerous one; but I think that, speaking the language as you do, and as you have already been among the Dervishes, you might, even if taken prisoner, make out a good story for yourself."

"I would undertake the commission, with pleasure," Gregory said. "I shall, of course, go in native dress."

"I propose that we carry you a hundred miles up the river, with us, and there land you. From that point, it would not be more than sixty or seventy miles across the desert to the Atbara, which you would strike forty or fifty miles above El Fasher. Of course you would be able to learn, there, whether Parsons had crossed. If he had, you would ride up the bank till you overtake him. If he had not, you would probably meet him at Mugatta. He must cross below that, as it is there he leaves the river."

"That seems simple enough, sir. My story would be that I was one of the Dervishes, who had escaped from the battle here; and had stopped at a village, thinking that I was safe from pursuit, until your boats came along; and that I then crossed the desert to go to Gedareh, where I thought I should be safe. That would surely carry me through. I shall want two fast camels--one for myself, and one for my boy."

"These we can get for you, from Abdul Azil, the Abadah sheik. Of course, you will put on Dervish robes and badges?"

"Yes, sir."

"I will go across and tell General Rundle, and obtain written instructions for you to carry despatches to Parsons. I will give them to you when you go up on the boat, in the morning. I will see at once about the camels, and ask the Intelligence people to get you two of the Dervish suits. You will also want rifles."

"Thank you, sir! I have a couple of Remingtons, and plenty of ammunition for them. I have two spears, also, which I picked up when we came in here."

"We are off again, Zaki," he said, when he returned to his hut; where the black was engaged in sweeping up the dust, and arranging everything as usual.

"Yes, master." Zaki suspended his work. "When do we go?"

"Tomorrow morning."

"Do we take everything with us?"

"No. I start in uniform. We shall both want Dervish dresses, but you need not trouble about them--they will be got for us."

"Then we are going among the Dervishes, again?"

"Well, I hope we are not; but we may meet some of them. We are going with the expedition up the Blue Nile, and will then land and strike across the desert, to the Atbara. That is enough for you to know, at present. We shall take our guns and spears with us."

Zaki had no curiosity. If his master was going, it was of course all right--his confidence in him was absolute.

In about an hour, a native from the Intelligence Department brought down two Dervish dresses, complete. They had still three hours before mess, and Gregory sat down on his bed, and opened his father's pocketbook, which he had had no opportunity to do, since it came into his possession. _

Read next: Chapter 17. A Fugitive

Read previous: Chapter 15. Khartoum

Table of content of With Kitchener in the Soudan: A Story of Atbara and Omdurman


GO TO TOP OF SCREEN

Post your review
Your review will be placed after the table of content of this book