The Egyptian army was concentrated; the British brigade
had arrived; the railway had reached Geneinetti; the miserable hamlet of
Dakhila, at the confluence, had grown from a small depot to a fort,
and from a fort to an entrenched camp, against which neither Dervish
science nor strength could by any possibility prevail. Perhaps Mahmud
did not realise the amazing power of movement that the railway had given
his foes; perhaps he still believed, with the Khalifa, that Berber was held
only by 2,000 Egyptians; or else - and this is the most probable - he was
reckless of danger and strong in his own conceit. At any rate, during the
second week in February he began to transport himself across the Nile,
with the plain design of an advance north. With all the procrastination of
an Arab he crawled leisurely forward towards the confluence of the rivers.
At El Aliab some idea of the strength of the Atbara entrenchment seems to
have dawned upon him. He paused undecided. A council was held. Mahmud was
for a continued advance and for making a direct attack on the enemy's
position. Osman Digna urged a more prudent course. Many years of hard
fighting against disciplined troops had taught the wily Hadendoa slaver
the power of modern rifles, and much sound tactics besides. He pressed his
case with jealous enthusiasm upon the commander he detested and despised.
An insurmountable obstacle confronted them. Yet what could not be overcome
might be avoided.
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