and were told that
it was a salute announcing the arrival of Zogal, the Governor of Darfur,
with his troops. It was the 2nd of April. We halted under a large acacia
tree, and took down our angaribs, over which mats were tightly
stretched. The arrival of two large parties, one from El Obeid and one
from Darfur, soon changed this dismal graveyard into a noisy camp.

Zogal had brought with him 2,500 infantry, 4,000 black soldiers and
singers, and 1,500 good horses. He had over 10,000 dollars in his beit
el mal, besides what each of his men possessed--and that was no
inconsiderable quantity: for everyone had enriched himself in Darfur;
and all this wealth was destined to become the Khalifa Abdullah's
property. Zogal had organized bands in his army; and the same tunes
which had been played in the days of the Government, now resounded over
the deserted plains of Bara. Zogal's camp was a scene of pleasure and
merry-making. Marissa was publicly sold and drunk openly; all idea of
being within the Mahdi's jurisdiction seemed to have been forgotten.
Zogal was a liberal man; his principle was "live and let live;" and he
thoroughly enjoyed the good things of this life, which the Mahdi's
revolt had placed within his reach. He was a powerfully built, stout
man, of about sixty years of age, with a white beard, which gave him a
patriarchal appearance. He was known as the father of many children, and
was of an open-hearted and generous disposition.

Zogal's camp was pitched on the ruins of Bara; rich carpets were spread
over the sand, and there he sat, ready to see anybody and everybody at
any time of the day; abundance of food was always ready for all his
guests. The only thing for which Zogal should be blamed was his shooting
to death twenty-five Sanjaks and Turks, who had surrendered with Slatin,
on the fall of Darfur. These Sanjaks had sworn to revolt against
Mahdiism, but had been betrayed. With this exception, he had conducted
his rule with great moderation; he did all he possibly could to further
trade; and when in Bara I saw some French calico, which had come from
Tunis, _via_ Wadai, to Darfur. Zogal's Bazingers made a great impression
on me; they were a wild and turbulent lot, capable of great marching
power, and able to support long-continued privations.

Lupton Bey often used to tell me of the cannibal propensities of these
black warriors. In many instances, their only dress consisted of the
leather bandolier, or cartridge