When the prisoners had been ranged up in such a manner as to make their exhibit most effective, and when I, as the prisoner of the occasion, had been |44| placed in the midst of the Emirs, a signal was given, on which the horsemen of the paraded army charged down upon us in their much-lauded and over-rated exhibition of horsemanship. This exhibition consists of individual and collective charges right on to the opposing line of onlookers, a sudden pulling up of the horse which throws it on to its haunches, a meaningless shaking of swords and spears over one’s head, a swerve to the left or right, the direction being dominated by the half-broken jaw for which the sudden pulling up with the brutal ring-bit with which the horses are ridden (?) is responsible; another charge, and so on until the rider is tired or the horse jibs. This is the usual programme, but it is occasionally varied by accidents to horses and riders and onlookers, as, for example, the affair of Khaleefa Ali Wad Helu, who, some few days before the battle of Omdurman, gave an inspiriting exhibition to the faithful in front of the Mahdi’s tomb, in order to instruct them how to charge the British lines, and spoiled the whole thing by being thrown, breaking his wrist, laming the horse, and nearly killing half a dozen of his most ardent admirers who were in the front rank. This is not fiction. [Illustration: THE KHALEEFA’S TENDER MERCIES.] The parade and exhibition, called El Arrdah, given in celebration of our capture, lasted more than an hour, when a move was made towards Dongola, and on arrival at the town, Wad Hamza and Wad Farag led me to the gateway of Nejoumi’s enclosure. We were kept waiting at the entrance for some time, and it was as much as my guards could do to protect me from the rabble; the people were in a most excited |45| state, and my position was not rendered any the more comfortable by my understanding the language. I was prodded with spears and swords, and maybe for a quarter of an hour—it may have been more, it may have been less—I was subjected to as severe an ordeal for patience as ever man was put to. Many of those in the rabble knew me from pre-abandonment days, but the cringing supplicants of former days were now my bitterest foes and tormentors. Curses and imprecations are such common accompaniments in ordinary disputes in the East—disputes over the most trivial matters—that little new could assail my ears in a country where a child just learning to babble may be heard, in childish innocence, to lisp to its mother, “Il la'an abook,” or a much shorter expression which, owing to the large number now understanding Arabic, I cannot here use, but both of which expressions are in constant use. It was the suggestive actions—some of beheading, some of mutilations, others of a description which I may not even hint at, which nearly drove me to exasperation; they did so actually, but I controlled