[6] This well was named “Beer-el-Ummarra” (the well of the Emirs). When ordering its construction the Khaleefa instructed Idris es Saier to put all the important prisoners on the work, as the exercise would do them good. My gang consisted of Ibrahim Wad Adlan, Ajjab Abou Jinn, Mohammad Wad Bessir, Mohammad Abou Sinn, Abdalla Abou Sinn, Ali Wad-el-Hadd, Ahmed Abd-el-Maajid, Mahmoud Wad Said, Hassan Um Barak, and the Shereef Khaleel—the aristocracy, I might say, of the Soudan. We did little or no work ourselves, we paid the imprisoned slaves for doing it; but whenever Idris es Saier made his appearance he would find us all busy. When telling us of the Khaleefa’s orders, Idris hinted that it might be advisable for us to subscribe amongst ourselves for paid labour, and he would take charge of the money. At Wad Adlan’s advice, we said we rather liked the idea of having some work to do to keep us occupied, Adlan knowing that Idris would keep the money and make us work just the same, or else pay over again for another batch of slaves. Each month a list of the prisoners in the Saier, and an account of their progress in “education” would be submitted to Abdullahi, with recommendations for the release of certain prisoners, and each month, coincident with the preparation of this list, some prisoner would be missing from his usual place that night and next morning—and for ever afterwards; and this is how Soudan romances were managed. Sheep and goats would stray unaccountably. As these accidents always happened about sunset, the concubine would set off with the chained prisoner to bring in the strayed animals at the precise moment when her lord and master was engaged upon his official duties and locking up the prisoners in the Umm Hagar. On his calling at his house, the temporary absence would excite little or no suspicion, but as the hours sped on |123| suspicions were aroused, and if on the following morning or the same night the sheep and goats found their way back unaided, the gaoler’s only way out of the difficulty was to present a favourable report of the conduct of the escaped prisoner, in the hope that his release would be ordered by the Khaleefa. To acknowledge that he had escaped while employed in tending his sheep and goats would be to place the gaoler’s head or liberty in danger, and the eloping couple well knew this. No sooner was the release ordered, than the happy couple would present themselves before the Kadi, to be married right off—the Soudanese damsel in the possession of a husband, with no other wives or concubines to worry her in the house, and her husband free of his chains. True, he might divorce his wife the same day if he so chose, but then his and her object had been gained—they were both clear of the gaoler, whom they knew dare not trump up any case against them in the hope of one or the other being again committed to prison, for, once