We had heard from the prisoner deserters how, at the Atbara, the armies had advanced by night and delivered their attack at dawn, first shelling the zareeba with their “devils,” which “came from such a great distance.” With Fauzi, Hamza the Jaalin, and others, I came to the conclusion that the same tactics would be employed for the attack at Kerreri; therefore, to the spies we swore that the English never did things twice in the same way; that they would on this occasion march during the day and attack at night, since the Sirdar would be afraid to let his soldiers see the Khaleefa’s great army, as they would all run away if they did. Our advice was that the faithful should remain in their camp, and await the attack. It would have been very awkward for me had the Sirdar planned a night attack, for he would have found the dervishes on the _qui vive_ awaiting him, and then I might have been blamed for the advice I had given. However, I believed that a night attack would be the very last thing he would resort to, and any tale from our side was good enough, provided doubts were raised in the minds of the Khaleefa and his advisers as to the chances of success which would attend his attacking by night. The population at this period may be said to have divided itself into three camps; the one praying—and sincerely, for the victory to Mahdieh; the second praying openly to the same end, but breathing prayers to Heaven for just the reverse; the third camp—and |261| this the bigger of the three, consisting of those waiting to see which side would probably win in order to throw in its lot with it. Dozens of people, who really were friends of the Government, came to me in prison asking advice as to what they might do before the troops actually arrived to evidence their loyalty, and it must not be forgotten that they were risking death at the hour of deliverance. To most I was still the “brother of Stephenson el Ingleezee,” and there were “brothers” of mine coming up with the Government troops.