VANCE TO KERRERI--SKIRMISHING WITH THE ENEMY.

"Death and his brother sleep" can only be staved off; they overcome in
the end. The tired soldiers dropped into profound slumber, although
the night of the 29th August at Um Terif was boisterous and the cruel
enemy near. It was one of the real surprises of the campaign, that the
Mahdists never really harassed us, or ventured to rush our lines under
cover of night, or in the fog of a dust storm. It has often been too
hastily assumed that the dervishes never attacked by night. By the
Nile and in the Eastern Soudan they repeatedly pushed attacks under
cover of darkness, or worried their opponents by persistent
sniping,--as for instance at Tamai, before Suakin and Abu Klea. Then
again, their final and successful assault upon Khartoum was delivered
at dawn. Hicks Pasha's force was hammered early and late. It is all
the more strange, therefore, that they left the Sirdar's army severely
alone, never practising their familiar harassing tactics and seeking
to secure an advantage. Numerous, swift of foot, with spears and
swords, the odds would have been much more in their favour had they
come down like wolves in the night. It is difficult to say exactly
what would have happened, and it is not pleasant to contemplate what
might have befallen. In such a conflict the Sirdar's losses would have
been great. Could it have been that the Khalifa believed some of the
stories set about that our army intended paying him a surprise visit
by night, as we did Mahmoud, and so he kept his men in camp quietly
waiting for us. The utmost precautions were taken by the Sirdar and
his generals to protect the lines. A strong zereba surrounded the
camp; sentries were doubled, and active patrols were on the alert all
night. The gale continued until after sunset, when heavy rain clouds
gathered, obscuring the moonlight. By and by there came on a violent
and protracted thunderstorm, accompanied by an almost continuous
deluge. There was nothing to be done but to lie fast wrapped in great
coat or blanket and await the passing of the hours, wet, chilled,
ruminating on all sorts of queer subjects. I managed to undo a corner
of my packed tent and under it obtained relative warmth, and dryness
in spots.

The persistence of that storm bred despair. It was nearly 8 a.m. on
Tuesday the 30th August, when, having drenched us all to the marrow,
the rain ceased. The sun, although two hours high, was battling with a
fin