line with it and on its right--hurried on, eager to see what
lay beyond the ridge. All was quiet, except for a few 'sniping' shots
from the top of Surgham. But gradually as Maxwell's brigade--the third
in the echelon--approached the hill, these shots became more numerous,
until the summit of the peak was spotted with smoke-puffs. The British
division moved on steadily, and, leaving these bold skirmishers to the
Soudanese, soon reached the crest of the ridge. At once and for the
first time the whole panorama of Omdurman--the brown and battered dome
of the Mahdi's Tomb, the multitude of mud houses, the glittering fork of
water which marked the confluence of the rivers--burst on their vision.
For a moment they stared entranced. Then their attention was distracted;
for trotting, galloping, or halting and gazing stupidly about them,
terrified and bewildered, a dozen riderless troop-horses appeared over
the further crest--for the ridge was flat-topped--coming from the plain,
as yet invisible, below. It was the first news of the Lancers' charge.
Details soon followed in the shape of the wounded, who in twos and
threes began to make their way between the battalions, all covered with
blood and many displaying most terrible injuries--faces cut to
rags, bowels protruding, fishhook spears still stuck in their
bodies--realistic pictures from the darker side of war. Thus absorbed,
the soldiers hardly noticed the growing musketry fire from the peak.
But suddenly the bang of a field-gun set all eyes looking backward. A
battery had unlimbered in the plain between the zeriba and the ridge,
and was beginning to shell the summit of the hill. The report of the
guns seemed to be the signal for the whole battle to reopen. From far
away to the right rear there came the sound of loud and continuous
infantry firing, and immediately Gatacre halted his division.

Almost before the British had topped the crest of the ridge, before
the battery had opened from the plain, while Colonel Sloggett was still
spurring across the dangerous ground between the river and the army,
the Sirdar knew that his enemy was again upon him. Looking back from
the slopes of Surgham, he saw that MacDonald, instead of continuing his
march in echelon, had halted and deployed. The veteran brigadier
had seen the Dervish formations on the ridge to the west of Surgham,
realised that he was about to be attacked, and, resolving to anticipate
the enemy, immediately brought his thre