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A PRISONER OF THE KHALEEFA

way to the camels next morning, to mount and get away on our last stage of the journey to Omdurman. We reached the town at noon, on Thursday, May 5, and passed in almost unnoticed until we reached the market-place, when the news having spread like wildfire, we were soon surrounded by thousands of people, and it was with the greatest difficulty we fought our way to the open praying-ground adjoining the burial-place of the Mahdi. (The tomb had not then been built.) Here I was placed in the shade of the rukooba. (The rukooba is a light structure of poles supporting a roof of matting and palm branches, in the shade of which the people rest during the heat of the day.) Two of my guards went off to deliver Wad Nejoumi's despatches to the Khaleefa, and also to announce my arrival.

Shortly afterwards, Nur Angara, Slatin, Mohammad Taher, and the chief Kadi, with others, came to question me. Slatin addressed a few words to me in English, but not understanding him, I asked him to speak in German, upon which he said in an undertone, "Be polite; tell them you have come to join the Mahdieh in order to embrace the Mahdi's religion; do not address me." Nur Angara, who put the majority of the questions, asked, "Why have you come to Omdurman?" I hesitated a little before replying, but did not hesitate long enough to allow my European blood to cool sufficiently to reply "politely" to the imperious black confronting me: told him, "Because I could not help myself; when I left Wadi Halfa it was to go and trade and not fight,