danese servants and the stampede of an angry camel, the night wore
away uneasily; but there was no charge of Dervishes such as might have
carried death to the heart of that small zariba. It is said that the
Sirdar had passed the hint to some trusty spies to pretend to be
deserters and warn the enemy that _he_ was going to attack them by
night. If this be so, spies have never done better service.

When the first glimmer of dawn came on September 2, every man felt
instinctively that the Khalifa had thrown away his last chance. Yet few
were prepared for the crowning act of madness. Every one feared that he
would hold fast to Omdurman and fight the new crusaders from house to
house. Possibly the seeming weakness of the zariba tempted him to a
concentric attack from the Kerreri Hills and the ridge which stretches
on both sides of the steep slopes of the hill, Gebel Surgham. A glance
at the accompanying plan will show that the position was such as to
tempt a confident enemy. The Sirdar also manoeuvred so as to bring on an
attack. He sent out the Egyptian cavalry and camel corps soon after dawn
to the plain lying between Gebel Surgham and Omdurman to lure on the
Khalifa's men.

The device was completely successful. Believing that they could catch
the horsemen in the rocky ridge alongside of Gebel Surgham, the
Dervishes came forth from their capital in swarms, pressed them hard,
and inflicted some losses. Retiring in good order, the cavalry drew on
the eager hordes, until about 6.30 A.M. the white glint of their
gibbehs, or tunics, showed thickly above the tawny slopes on either side
of Gebel Surgham. On they came in unnumbered throngs, until, pressing
northwards along the sky-line, their lines also topped the Kerreri Hills
to the north of the zariba. Their aim was obvious: they intended to
surround the invaders, pen them up in their zariba, and slaughter them
there. To all who did not know the value of the central position in war
and the power of modern weapons, the attack seemed to promise complete
success. The invaders were 1300 miles away from Cairo and defeat would
mean destruction.

Religious zeal lent strength to the onset. From the converging crescent
of the Mahdists a sound as of a dim murmur was wafted to the zariba.
Little by little it deepened to a hoarse roar, as the host surged on,
chanting the pious invocations that so often had struck terror into the
Egyptians. Now they heard the threatening din with hearts un