Fire and sword in the Sudan; a personal narrative of fighting and serving the dervishes, 1879-1895 Translated by Wingate Popular ed . found myself sitting in the stern, next Yusef Pasha eshShellali, and, as a was near him and I wasthirsty, I begged him to dip it into the river and give me adrink. Gordon, noticing this, turned to me, smiling, andsaid in French, < Are you not aware that Yusef Pasha, inspite of his black face, is very much your senior in rank ?You are only the Mudir of Dara, and you should not haveasked him to give you a drink. I at once apologized inArab
Fire and sword in the Sudan; a personal narrative of fighting and serving the dervishes, 1879-1895 Translated by Wingate Popular ed . found myself sitting in the stern, next Yusef Pasha eshShellali, and, as a was near him and I wasthirsty, I begged him to dip it into the river and give me adrink. Gordon, noticing this, turned to me, smiling, andsaid in French, < Are you not aware that Yusef Pasha, inspite of his black face, is very much your senior in rank ?You are only the Mudir of Dara, and you should not haveasked him to give you a drink. I at once apologized inArabic to Yusef Pasha, adding that I had asked him for thewater in a moment of forgetfulness ; to which he repliedthat he was only too pleased to oblige me or anyone else towhom he could be of service. On reaching the steamers, Gordon and I went on boardthe Ismailia, while Yusef Pasha and Hassan Pasha went onthe Bordein. Gordon explained to me in the fullest detailthe state of Darfur, saying that he hoped most sincerely thecampaign against Sultan Harun would be brought to a suc-cessful close, for the country for years past had been the. INTRODUCTORY ? scene of continuous fighting and bloodshed, and was sorelyin need of rest. He also told me that he believed Gessiscampaign against Suleiman Zubeir would soon be over ;before long he must be finally defeated or killed, for he hadlost most of his Bazinger troops (rifle-bearing Blacks), andit was impossible for him to sustain the continual losseswhich Gessi had inflicted on him. It was past ten oclockwhen he bade me Good-bye. He had previously orderedthe fires to be lighted, as he was starting that night forKhartum, and, as I stepped over the side, he said, in French, Good-bye, my dear Slatin, and God bless you ; I am sureyou will do your best under any circumstances. Perhaps Iam going back to England, and if so, I hope we may meetthere. These were the last words I ever heard him utter ;but who could have imagined the fate that was in st
Size: 1292px × 1934px
Photo credit: © The Reading Room / Alamy / Afripics
License: Licensed
Model Released: No
Keywords: ., bookcentury1800, bookdecade1890, bookpublisherlondo, bookyear1897