so that one might say the entire Sudanese woman-world was to be seen
here.

Amongst this vast concourse four only were lawful wives; the remainder
were considered as "ghenima," or booty, and were looked upon as slaves
and concubines. His principal wife was called "Aisha," or, as she is
better known in Omdurman, "Om el Muminin" (the Mother of the Faithful).
She was a woman of considerable influence, for the wives of all the
principal emirs visited her, and she was assisted by them in elaborating
an extensive system of espionage. Alas, how many unfortunate girls were
left weeping day and night for their miserable state, robbed by this
Aisha of their happiness and liberty!

The Mahdi's dwelling was built for the most part of the captured loot.
From the boards of General Hicks's stable he had two huts built, and
near these a hut made of mortar and a small magazine. This man, who
hitherto had but a small straw mat, now lay on fine bedsteads originally
brought from Jedda and captured in Khartum, while the floors were spread
with Persian carpets. Here was this Divine Mahdi leading indoors a life
of the most immoderate uxoriousness, whilst outside his fanatical
followers hailed him as the direct messenger of God, sent to purge the
world from the evil practices of the hated Turk.

Two persons whom I knew well, and who had visited the Mahdi less than
three weeks before his death, gave me an account of the sort of life he
was then leading. It was the month of Ramadan, the great fast, and any
one who failed to keep it strictly was punishable by death. From noon
till midnight people used to crowd to the mosque, which was then only a
large enclosure surrounded by a zariba. Thousands of Dervishes could be
accommodated in this large rectangular space, in which the clash of a
forest of spears indicated their impatience to see the Mahdi as he came
to prayers; they had seen him hundreds and hundreds of times before, but
they seemed never tired of gazing at him, and often fought to get a
place near the mihrab (niche) where he prayed.

Whilst the impatient murmur of thousands of voices indicates that the
time of his approach has almost arrived, let us for a moment turn into
the Mahdi's harem, and here is a true picture of what my friends there
beheld. The Mahdi reclining on a magnificent carpet, his head propped up
by a pillow covered with gold brocade; he is clothed in a linen shirt of
finest texture, a pair of drawers, and a gallabieh