Expeditionary Force, were within five miles. They
had advanced that day with confidence and determination. But it seemed
impossible to believe that they would attack by daylight across the open
ground. Two explanations of their advance and halt presented themselves.
Either they had offered battle in a position where they could not
themselves be attacked until four o'clock in the afternoon, and hoped
that the Sirdar's army, even though victorious, would have to fight a
rear-guard action in the darkness to the river; or they intended to make
a night attack. It was not likely that an experienced commander would
accept battle at so late an hour in the day. If the Dervishes were
anxious to attack, so much the worse for them. But the army would
remain strictly on the defensive--at any rate, until there was plenty of
daylight. The alternative remained--a night attack.

Here lay the great peril which threatened the expedition. What was to be
done with the troops during the hours of darkness? In the daytime they
recked little of their enemy. But at night, when 400 yards was the
extreme range at which their fire could be opened, it was a matter of
grave doubt whether the front could be kept and the attack repelled. The
consequences of the line being penetrated in the darkness were appalling
to think of. The sudden appearance of crowds of figures swarming to the
attack through the gloom; the wild outburst of musketry and artillery
all along the zeriba; the crowds still coming on in spite of the
bullets; the fire getting uncontrolled, and then a great bunching and
crumpling of some part of the front, and mad confusion, in which a
multitude of fierce swordsmen would surge through the gap, cutting
and slashing at every living thing; in which transport animals would
stampede and rush wildly in all directions, upsetting every formation
and destroying all attempts to restore order; in which regiments and
brigades would shift for themselves and fire savagely on all sides,
slaying alike friend and foe; and out of which only a few thousand,
perhaps only a few hundred, demoralised men would escape in barges and
steamers to tell the tale of ruin and defeat.

The picture--true or false--flamed before the eyes of all the leaders
that night; but, whatever their thoughts may have been, their tactics
were bold. Whatever advice was given, whatever opinions were expressed,
the responsibility was Sir Herbert Kitchener's. Upon his shoulders lay
the