At this time the Taaishi, Baggara, Berti Habbanieh, Rhizaghat, Digheem and other tribes, whom he formerly depended upon for support, were streaming off to the number of probably fifteen thousand, from the south of the town. Calling two men, he asked them to go outside the town, and see how far the Government troops were distant. The messengers, on reaching the Tombs of the Martyrs, about twelve hundred yards from where Abdullahi was sitting, suddenly came across the Sirdar and his staff standing at the angle of the great wall; they watched the staff move off towards the Beit-el-Mal, and returned and reported this to Abdullahi. Slipping through the door communicating with his house, he changed his clothes, collected the remainder of his household, and quietly slipped off while the Sirdar was making the complete circuit of Omdurman with the exception of those twelve hundred yards. It is a thousand pities, as things |277| actually were, that the staff did not continue in the direction they were then taking, for a few minutes’ trot along the deserted street leading to the prayer-ground would have allowed the Sirdar to lay his hands upon Abdullahi, as he sat there absolutely alone, on the spot where he had hoped that his faithful would make their last stand. The sun was falling, and still we in prison did not know exactly how the day had gone. We had heard the drums and ombeyehs, which told us that Abdullahi was calling upon the faithful to assemble at the prayer-ground; a cloud of dust on the desert and the gunboats slowly steaming up, meant that the troops were advancing on the town. Idris es Saier came and asked me what he was to do—to go to his master or wait for the English. I advised him to close the gates of the prison, use his rifles upon any of the Baggara trying to force an entrance, and wait and see who would ask for the keys—the expected Sirdar or the Khaleefa. In all cases, I told him, it was his duty to protect the prisoners in his charge, and reminded him of Fauzi’s tale of the two gaolers. When we heard the shrill cries of the women, we knew that some one was being welcomed, and guessed correctly that it was the English at last. Idris, in his anxiety to secure his prisoners, had us all chained in gangs earlier than usual, and this linking of my gang to the common chain had only just been completed when Idris came, frightened out of his life, as one could tell by his voice, to tell me that the “place was filled with my English brothers,” that a big, tall man, who, he was told, was |278| the dreaded Sirdar, had asked for me, and that I was to come at once.