That night the rain came down in torrents, and the following day the army arose uncomfortable, and maybe a little dispirited, but Abdullahi restored their good spirits by the relation of a vision. During the night the Prophet and the Mahdi had come to him, and let him see beforehand the result of the battle; the souls of the faithful killed were all rising |265| to Paradise, while the legions of hell were seen tearing into shreds the spirits of the infidels. While this tale was going its rounds, the gunboats were creeping up, and a further move to the north was ordered, for it had been reported that the English were landing the big guns on Tuti Island, to shell the camp. We, too, in prison heard that the gunboats were approaching, and then we heard the distant boom, boom of the guns gradually nearing and growing louder. Before we had time to speculate as to whether the great fight had commenced or not, a boy whom I had stationed on the roof of a gaoler’s house, came running down to say that the “devils” were passing Halfeyeh. At the same moment we were smothered in dust and stones; a shell had struck the top of the prison wall, ricochetted to the opposite wall, and fallen without exploding in the prison of the women. All we prisoners hurried off and squatted at the base of the north wall, believing this to be the safest place. The air was now filled with what to us chained wretches appeared to be the yells and screeches of legions of the damned let loose. We shuddered and looked helplessly from one to the other. Then I noticed that the shells were all flying high over us. Getting to my feet, I rushed—as far as my shackles allowed—stumbling to the middle of the open space, tried to dance and jump, called on all to come and join me. I shouted that my “brothers” had got my messages; that only one place in Omdurman would be left—the Saier; my brothers would spare all their lives for me. Yes, I had gone mad; reason had left |266| me, and I was raving, laughing, crying, singing, kissing my hands in welcome to those terrible messengers of death screeching and yelling overhead; throwing open my arms, and leaping up to embrace the shell which a second later was to gather in death seventy-two then praying in the mosque.[12] [12] The flight of the shells overhead had a most extraordinary effect; they appeared to compress the atmosphere and press it down to the earth; we could actually feel the pressure on our bodies, and with some it brought on nausea.