After my servant Hasseena had been knocked down a number of times and the food she was bringing me had been devoured by the starving prisoners, we hit upon an expedient. Buying a gazelle skin, she had this hung from her waist, under her dress, and left dangling between her knees; the food for me was placed in this, but Hasseena always carried, as a blind or decoy, a little food in her hands. This would be pounced upon, when Hasseena, who had a healthy pair of lungs, as Wad Nejoumi discovered at his first interview with her, would raise the echoes with her screams. These gave her a clear path to me, and she waited for a favourable opportunity to drop the gazelle skin on the ground beside me. It must not be thought from the foregoing that the prisoners had no feelings for each other, and for those worse off in the matter of food than themselves. There was more charity shown by those wild fanatics, and almost savages, than is often shown in more civilized places. Mahmoud Wad Said, so long as his little property held out, sold portions of it day after day, and had sent into the prison for his poorer fellow-prisoners, a large “geddahh” of asseeda and milk, night and morning, and this gave thirty to forty |119| prisoners a meal each day; others divided with their less fortunate friends the little food they received. I have seen it stated that my charity to other prisoners created a very good impression; but, then, how could I, the only white and Christian in the prison—and, for the matter of that, the only avowed Christian in the Soudan—not strive to show just a little more self-denial and charity and kindness of heart than those “fanatics” showed me?[5] [5] On reading over the foregoing to Father Ohrwalder, and asking him if he knew of any others who had assisted me with food while in prison, he first objected to my giving him any credit for what he had done, saying he had done but part of his duty towards me, and, in deference to his wishes, I have curtailed the account of his kindnesses towards me. He then expressed surprise that the name of Slatin did not figure amongst those of my benefactors, and it is only now that I hear from Father Ohrwalder of the risks Slatin ran in trying to help me. As can be well understood, this is hardly a subject on which, at the present time, I could approach Slatin, as it would practically be asking him how many dollars’ worth of thanks were due to him.