A Small But Strong Zeriba
Was Built Near This Precious Pool, And The Reserve Food And A Few Sick Men
Were Left With A Small Garrison Under An Egyptian Officer.
The column
resumed their journey.
On the 29th they reached Aigaila, and here, with
feelings of astonishment scarcely less than Robinson Crusoe experienced
at seeing the footprint in the sand, they came upon the Khalifa's abandoned
camp. A wide space had been cleared of bush, and the trees, stripped of
their smaller branches, presented an uncanny appearance. Beyond stood the
encampment - a great multitude of yellow spear-grass dwellings, perfectly
clean, neatly arranged in streets and squares, and stretching for miles.
The aspect of this strange deserted town, rising, silent as a cemetery,
out of the awful scrub, chilled everyone who saw it. Its size might indeed
concern their leader. At the very lowest computation it had contained
20,000 people. How many of these were fighting men? Certainly not fewer
than 8,000 or 9,000. Yet the expedition had been sent on the assumption
that there were scarcely 1,000 warriors with the Khalifa!
Observing every precaution of war, the column crawled forward,
and the cavalry and Camel Corps, who covered the advance, soon came
in contact with the enemy's scouts. Shots were exchanged and the Arabs
retreated. The column halted three miles to the east of this position,
and, forming a strong zeriba, passed the night in expectation of an attack.
Nothing, however, happened, and at dawn Mitford was sent out with some
mounted 'friendlies' to reconnoitre. At ten o'clock he returned, and his
report confirmed the conclusions which had been drawn from the size of the
Aigaila camp. Creeping forward to a good point of view, the officer had
seen the Dervish flags lining the crest of the hill. From their number,
the breadth of front covered, and the numerous figures of men moving
about them, he estimated not fewer than 2,000 Arab riflemen in the
front line. How many more were in reserve it was impossible to say.
The position was, moreover, of great strength, being surrounded
by deep ravines and pools of water.
The news was startling. The small force were 125 miles from their base;
behind them lay an almost waterless country, and in front was a powerful
enemy. An informal council of war was held. The Sirdar had distinctly
ordered that, whatever happened, there was to be no waiting; the troops
were either to attack or retire. Colonel Kitchener decided to retire.
The decision having been taken, the next step was to get beyond the enemy's
reach as quickly as possible, and the force began their retreat on the same
night. The homeward march was not less long and trying than the advance,
and neither hopes of distinction nor glamour of excitement cheered the
weary soldiers. As they toiled gloomily back towards the Nile, the horror
of the accursed land grew upon all. Hideous spectacles of human misery
were added to the desolation of the hot, thorny scrub and stinking pools
of mud.
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