Then they began
to cheer. They were still a mile away from the hill, and were concealed
from the Sirdar's army by the folds of the ground. The noise of the
shouting was heard, albeit faintly, by the troops down by the river.
But to those watching on the hill a tremendous roar came up in waves
of intense sound, like the tumult of the rising wind and sea
before a storm.
The British and Egyptian forces were arranged in line, with their
back to the river. The flanks were secured by the gunboats lying moored
in the stream. Before them was the rolling sandy plain, looking from the
slight elevation of the ridge smooth and flat as a table. To the right rose
the rocky hills of the Kerreri position, near which the Egyptian cavalry
were drawn up - a dark solid mass of men and horses. On the left the
21st Lancers, with a single squadron thrown out in advance, were halted
watching their patrols, who climbed about Surgham Hill, stretched forward
beyond it, or perched, as we did, on the ridge.
The ground sloped gently up from the river; so that it seemed
as if the landward ends of the Surgham and Kerreri ridges curved in towards
each other, enclosing what lay between. Beyond the long swell of sand which
formed the western wall of this spacious amphitheatre the black shapes of
the distant hills rose in misty confusion. The challengers were already
in the arena; their antagonists swiftly approached.
Although the Dervishes were steadily advancing, a belief that
their musketry was inferior encouraged a nearer view, and we trotted round
the south-west slopes of Surgham Hill until we reached the sandhills on the
enemy's side, among which the regiment had waited the day before.
Thence the whole array was visible in minute detail. It seemed that every
single man of all the thousands could be examined separately. The pace of
their march was fast and steady, and it was evident that it would not be
safe to wait long among the sandhills. Yet the wonder of the scene
exercised a dangerous fascination, and for a while we tarried.
The emblems of the more famous Emirs were easily distinguishable.
On the extreme left the chiefs and soldiers of the bright green flag
gathered under Ali-Wad-Helu; between this and the centre the large
dark green flag of Osman Sheikh-ed-Din rose above a dense mass of spearmen,
preceded by long lines of warriors armed presumably with rifles; over the
centre, commanded by Yakub, the sacred Black banner of the Khalifa floated
high and remarkable; while on the right a great square of Dervishes was
arrayed under an extraordinary number of white flags, amid which the red
ensign of Sherif was almost hidden. All the pride and might of the Dervish
Empire were massed on this last great day of its existence. Riflemen who
had helped to destroy Hicks, spearmen who had charged at Abu Klea,
Emirs who saw the sack of Gondar, Baggara fresh from raiding the Shillooks,
warriors who had besieged Khartoum - all marched, inspired by the memories
of former triumphs and embittered by the knowledge of late defeats,
to chastise the impudent and accursed invaders.
The advance continued. The Dervish left began to stretch out
across the plain towards Kerreri - as I thought, to turn our right flank.
Their centre, under the Black Flag, moved directly towards Surgham.
The right pursued a line of advance south of that hill. This mass of men
were the most striking of all. They could not have mustered fewer
than 6,000. Their array was perfect. They displayed a great number
of flags - perhaps 500 - which looked at the distance white, though they
were really covered with texts from the Koran, and which by their
admirable alignment made this division of the Khalifa's army look like
the old representations of the Crusaders in the Bayeux tapestry.
The attack developed. The left, nearly 20,000 strong, toiled across
the plain and approached the Egyptian squadrons. The leading masses of
the centre deployed facing the zeriba and marched forthwith to the direct
assault. As the whole Dervish army continued to advance, the division
with the white flags, which had until now been echeloned in rear of
their right, moved up into the general line and began to climb the
southern slopes of Surgham Hill. Meanwhile yet another body of the enemy,
comparatively insignificant in numbers, who had been drawn up behind the
'White Flags,' were moving slowly towards the Nile, echeloned still further
behind their right, and not far from the suburbs of Omdurman. These men
had evidently been posted to prevent the Dervish army being cut off from
the city and to secure their line of retreat; and with them
the 21st Lancers were destined to have a much closer acquaintance
about two hours later.
The Dervish centre had come within range. But it was not
the British and Egyptian army that began the battle. If there was one arm
in which the Arabs were beyond all comparison inferior to their adversaries,
it was in guns. Yet it was with this arm that they opened their attack.
In the middle of the Dervish line now marching in frontal assault were
two puffs of smoke. About fifty yards short of the thorn fence two
red clouds of sand and dust sprang up, where the projectiles had struck.
It looked like a challenge. It was immediately answered. Great clouds
of smoke appeared all along the front of the British and Soudanese brigades.
One after another four batteries opened on the enemy at a range of about
3,000 yards. The sound of the cannonade rolled up to us on the ridge,
and was re-echoed by the hills.
