He ordered his
great war-drum to be beaten and the ombya to be blown, and for the last
time those dismal notes boomed through the streets of Omdurman. They were
not heeded. The Arabs had had enough fighting. They recognised that all was
lost. Besides, to return to the city was difficult and dangerous.
The charge of the 21st Lancers had been costly, but it was not ineffective.
The consequent retirement of the Dervish brigade protecting the extreme
right exposed their line of retreat. The cavalry were resolved to take full
advantage of the position they had paid so much to gain, and while the
second attack was at its height we were already trotting over the plain
towards the long lines of fugitives who streamed across it. With the
experience of the past hour in our minds, and with the great numbers of
the enemy in our front, it seemed to many that a bloody day lay before us.
But we had not gone far when individual Dervishes began to walk towards the
advancing squadrons, throwing down their weapons, holding up their hands,
and imploring mercy.
As soon as it was apparent that the surrender of individuals was accepted,
the Dervishes began to come in and lay down their arms--at first by twos
and threes, then by dozens, and finally by scores. Meanwhile those who were
still intent on flight made a wide detour to avoid the cavalry,
and streamed past our front at a mile's distance in uninterrupted
succession.
Pages:
417
418
419
420
421
422
423
424
425
426
427
428
429
430
431
432
433
434
435
436
437
438
439
440
441