CHAPTER XXV

THE SOUDAN WAR (_Continued_)

III. UP THE CATARACTS AND ACROSS THE DESERT

"To Assiout, in a cloud of dust

We came, and it made us smile,

To see each other's features, till

We washed them in the Nile.

From there, by boat, to Assouan

We came, and every night

Made fast, for the boatmen wouldn't steam

Excepting in daylight."

_Songs of the Camel Corps_ (Sergt. H. EAGLE, R.M.C.C.)

On the 6th December, 1884, Peel and Colbourne, my two gallant comrades

who had done so splendid a work upon the Second Cataract, quitted the

Belly of Stone, embarking in two boats manned by Kroomen. The names of

these big black men were Africa, Ginger Red, Bottled Beer, Sampson, Two

Glasses and Been-Very-Ill-Twice; and when they were excited, as they

nearly always were, they took to the English tongue, and kept us

laughing for a week. When the wind was fair and we sailed up against

the rapids, the Kroo boys were terribly anxious, knowing that if the

wind failed we should slide all the way back again.

By this time the whole expedition was moving up river. The conduct of

the soldiers was magnificent, achieving wonderful results. Of the

sailors, accustomed to the work, and knowing the shortest way of doing

things, one expected much--and got even more. It was hard enough for

the {241} seamen. Although they, the soldiers, knew nothing of boats,

they worked like heroes. And the navigation of the Nile from Gemai to

Dal enforced hard continuous toil from dawn to dark day after day. The

_voyageurs_ did splendid service; the expedition could not have

advanced so rapidly without them; and although they knew nothing of

sails, being acute adventurous fellows they soon picked up enough

knowledge to carry them through.

An officer of cavalry in charge of a convoy of stores on the river

worked by Dongola men, describing his adventures with what he called

his "peasant crews," pathetically observed: "You know, I know nothing

whatever about a boat, or what it ought to do, and I am not ashamed to

tell you that the whole time I am sweating with terror. And every

night when I go to bed I dream of whirlpools and boiling rapids and

then I dream that I am drowned."

But his visions of the night affected neither his nerve nor his

indomitable energy.

Our daily routine along the river began at 4.30: all hands turn out,

make up tent (if there were one), breakfast, and start, sailing or

tracking or rowing according to the state of the river. But whether

you sailed or tracked or rowed, before long the river changed and you

must row instead of track, or sail instead of row. Then you would come

to a difficult place, and you would heave the cargo on shore, and get

the empty boat up a fall or a heavy rush of water, and portage the

cargo on to the boat. So on to midday, when an hour was allowed for

dinner; then at it again, sailing, tracking, rowing, in and out cargo,

till sundown. Then haul into the bank and eat bully beef without

vegetables. After supper, roll in a blanket and sleep on the soft sand

the profound and delicious slumber of weary men.

Occasionally a boat would strike a rock; or at rare intervals an

accident would happen, and part of a crew would be lost, and the boat's

gear swept away; or a hole would be knocked in the boat, when she would

be emptied of gear and cargo, hauled up, and patched. Under these

circumstances, {242} the boats often made no more than three or four

miles' advance in a day. Overloaded as were many of the boats, they

served their purpose admirably well.

At the big Cataracts were stationed working parties, which emptied the

boats of gear and cargo, portaged them overland, and hauled the boats

through the rapids.

So we struggled up the broad and rushing river from Gemai to Dal,

sailing and towing and rowing, capsized and righting again. And one

night a sandstorm waltzed out of the desert and blew away our tent and

with it knives, forks, slippers, lamp, candles, matches and everything.

And the next morning Peel dropped his knife, and in trying to save it

he upset our whole breakfast of sardines and coffee into Colbourne's

boots. And half my kit was stolen, and I was reduced to one broken

pair of boots, and the natives stole my tooth powder and baked bread

with it. And we had boils all over us like the man in the Bible,

because every little scratch was poisoned by the innumerable flies of

Egypt. But we were so busy that nothing mattered.

Fighting every mile of the great river pouring down from Khartoum, we

on the Cataracts had no news of Gordon. All we knew was that there was

need to hurry, hurry all the way. At such times as the mail from home

arrived upon a dyspeptic camel, we got scraps of news of home affairs.

People who knew much more than Lord Wolseley, were saying he ought to

have taken the Souakim-Berber route instead of the Nile route. I said

then, as I say now, he had no choice. At this time of crisis, when the

Navy was dangerously inadequate, one political party was screaming

denunciations against "legislation by panic." Encouraging to sailors

and soldiers sweating on service! But we knew what to expect. I

observe that in a private letter written in December, 1884, from the

banks of the Nile, at the end of a long day's work with the boats, I

said, "Both sides are equally to blame for the defective state of the

Navy. Tell ---- and ---- not to be unpatriotic and make the Navy a

party question, or they will not do half the good they might."

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We came to Ambigol to find the boats had been cleared by Alleyne of the

Artillery. I was able to improve the organisation there, and to give

help along the river I was in time to save three boats. At Dal, I laid

lines along the centre of the two and a half miles rapid, so that in

calm weather the boats could haul themselves through.

In the meantime, the Naval Brigade of which Lord Wolseley had ordered

me to take command, had been selected, at my request, by Captain

Boardman.

On 19th December, my first division came to Dal. Up they came, all

together in line ahead, under all possible sail, using the boat awnings

as spinnakers. They had sailed up the rapids where the other boats

were tracking; and the soldiers cheered them as they went by. There

was not a scratch on any boat, nor a drop of water in any of them.

Every cargo was complete in detail, including machine guns, ammunition,

oil and stores. Had I not a right to be proud of the seamen? I put an

officer at the helm of each boat, and told them to follow me through

Dal Cataract; and led them through, so that the same night the boats

were reloaded with the gear and cargo which had been portaged, and were

going on. The passage of Dal Cataract usually occupied three days.

I sent on the first division, and stayed at Dal to await the arrival of

the second, in order to get all my men together. As it happened, I did

not see it until it reached Korti. On 21st December it had left

Sarras, bringing oil and stores to be used in the Nile steamers of

which I was to take charge. For by this time I had been informed of

Lord Wolseley's intention to send the Naval Brigade with the Camel

Corps to make a dash across the Bayuda Desert to Metemmeh. The Naval

Brigade was then to attack Khartoum in Gordon's steamers, while the

Camel Corps attacked it by land.

So I remained yet a little while at Dal, helping the boats through the

Cataract, and camping in the sand. I found a baby scorpion two and a

half inches long in my {244} handkerchief. The officer whose tent was

next to mine, shared it with a sand-rat, which used to fill his

slippers with _dhura_ grains every night, and which jumped on and off

my knee when I breakfasted with my friend. Actually there came two or

three days when I had nothing to do; and when I could take a hot bath

in peace, with the luxury of a cake of carbolic soap, and sit in my

little canvas chair, which was, however, speedily stolen.

My poor servant José was suddenly taken with so sharp an attack of

fever that he was stricken helpless and could hardly lift a cup to his

lips. His pulse was going like a machine gun. He was too ill to be

moved on mule-back to the hospital, which was eight miles distant; and

I had to doctor him myself. I gave him castor-oil, deprived him of all

food for twenty-four hours, gave him five grains of quinine every two

hours, and plenty of lime-juice to drink; and he was soon well again.

Lord Avonmore, Lieutenant-Colonel J. Alleyne, Captain Burnaby and

myself subscribed to a Christmas dinner of extraordinary charm, eaten

with the Guards. The menu was:--soup made of bully beef, onions, rice

and boiled biscuit, fish from the Nile, stewed bully beef and chicken

_à la_ as-if-they-had-been-trained-for-long-distance-races-for-a-year,

_entremet_ of biscuit and jam. Rum to drink.

I should have missed that feast, and should have been on the way to

Korti post-haste several days before Christmas, had it not been that a

telegram sent by Lord Wolseley to me had been delayed in transmission.

On 27th December I received an urgent telegram from General Buller,

asking where I was and what I was doing. A week previously Lord

Wolseley had telegraphed instructions that I was to proceed to Korti

with all speed to arrive with the first division of the Naval Brigade.

Having received no orders, I was waiting for the second division so

that I might see that it was complete and satisfactory. (It arrived at

Dal the day after I left that place in obedience to General Buller's

orders.)

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From Dal to Korti, as the crow flies, is some 200 miles to the

southward; following up the river, which, with many windings, flows

north from Korti, the distance is more than half as much again. I was

already (by no fault of mine) a week behind; my instructions were to

proceed by the shortest possible route by the quickest possible means,

camels or steam pinnace; and immediately I received General Buller's

telegram I dashed off to the Commissariat. Here I obtained four camels

to carry José, myself and my kit to the nearest point at which I could

catch a steam pinnace on the river. Also, by riding the first stage of

the journey, I could avoid two wide bends of the Nile. The camels were

but baggage animals; they all had sore backs; and I could get no proper

saddle. I strapped my rug on the wooden framework. We started the

same evening at seven o'clock.

The night had fallen when we left behind us the stir of the armed camp

and plunged into the deep stillness of the desert. The brilliant

moonlight sharply illumined the low rocky hills, and the withered

scrub, near and far; the hard gravelly track stretched plainly before

us; and the camels went noiselessly forward on their great padded feet.

So, hour after hour. It was one o'clock upon the following morning

(21st December) when we rode into a dark and silent village. Lighting

upon an empty hut, we crawled into it, cooked a little supper, and went

to sleep.

Before daylight we were awakened by the noise of voices crying and

quarrelling; and there were two black negresses upbraiding us, and

beyond them was a group of agitated natives. It appeared that we were

desecrating the village mosque. Having soothed the inhabitants, we

started. That day we rode from 6 a.m. to 7.30 p.m. with a halt of an

hour and a half at midday, travelling 40 miles in twelve hours, good

going for baggage camels with sore backs. By that time I was getting

sore, too. We slept that night at Absarat, started the next morning

(29th December) at 8.30, and rode to Abu Fatmeh, arriving at 4 p.m.

Starting next morning at nine o'clock, we arrived at Kaibur at 5 p.m.

Here, to my {246} intense relief, we picked up Colville and his steam

pinnace, in which we instantly embarked for Korti.

During the last three days and a half we had been thirty-two hours in

the saddle (which, strictly speaking, my camel had not) and a part of

my anatomy was quite worn away. I lay down in the pinnace and hoped to

become healed.

We did not know it; but the same evening, General Sir Herbert Stewart's

Desert Column left Korti upon the great forced march of the forlorn

hope.

The pinnace, whose furnaces were burning wood, most of which was wet

and green, pounded slowly up river until we met the steamer

_Nassifara_, into which I transferred myself. Blissful was the rest in

that steamer after my two months' tremendous toil getting the boats

through the Bab-el-Kebir and the long ride across the desert. So I lay

in the steamer and lived on the height of diet, fresh meat, milk,

butter and eggs, till my tunic hardly held me. I did not then know why

Lord Wolseley had sent for me in so great a hurry.

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