The Abbeville press and banner. [volume] (Abbeville, S.C.) 1869-1924, 1901-02-27
CHAPTER III.
THE TRAGEDY OF THE NILE.


look very grave, and even Ben Has
san, standing near by, seems as
though appalled,. Faith in the aston
ishing powers of Chinese Gordon has
always given those who know him an
idea that nothing could ever overcome
him.
He was q man absolutely without
fear, with a fine Christian character,
respected everywhere by the natives,
for his personality was something far
beyond the ordinary. For six months
and more this valiant man has been
shut up within the walls of Khar-
toom, with a few thousand miserable
native troops facing fifty thousand
dervishes Of Ell Mahdi. Without the
presence Of Gordon, these troops
would not hold out a day against the
enemy.
There, with few faithful officers
and friends, he has held out from
week to month, hurting back the le-
gions of the False Prophet and hold
ing the debatable ground against the
slave-traders, waiting for the rescue
that will come too late; for England,
the more shame to her, being engaged
in political discussions, delays sending
a relief column until it becomes ne
cessity on account Of the clamor Of
the people, which column will find
Khartoom in the hands Of the enemy,
and Gordon-lost.
This is sad news you bring, joe"
says the newspaper man, at length.
Sad, yes; but true, too true. Eng.
land has, by her vacillating policy,
murdered the bravest Of her sons.
How blind the powers that be! This
will topple over the ministry quicker
than anything else on earth. The peo-
pie loved Gordon because his motives
were always honorable"
The man from Khartoom speaks
quietly, as if he has long since learned
to look upon the disaster with compos-
ure. He is not given to emotion, at
| any rate, as glance into his face
would inform an observer.
Tell US about it. joe" bursts out
the impetuous Sandy, notebook and
pencil in hand.
The other passes one hand wearily
across his brow, as though he would
clear away tn: cobwebs time has spun
about his brain.
1T is hardly propitious time for
entering into details. my friend. I am
willing to speak, but know you will
pardon me if l simply sketch the mat.
ter lightly"
Yes. yes, tell what you please, Joe"
Mr.. Grimes and the reis say nothing;
only moving a little closer to the mes
senger from Khartoom, in order TO
hear how Gordon fell. Millions will
later on, read the story Of his deser-
ton and death in that town on the
Nile, and from every country under
the sun will breathe curses against
| Old England for the cowardly policy
that has ended in this way.
You know what took Gordon to
Khartoom and the sacred work to
which he devoted his life. He was the
deadly enemy of the slave-trader, and
long ago declared that his life would
he spent IN endeavoring to break up
that terrible trade on the upper Nile.
The rattle of slave-chains was the
most hated sound he knew, and it was
this that made him hold on even when
| ,1oor, ctn him, in, tho fooo
II know his mind, for have talked
with him day by day, and found Cor
don rock. He could a dozen times
have saved himself by flight, but he
would not desert his post. Heaven
sent him there, and at Khartoom he
would remain, the rock of Egypt, un-
til the longed-for line of British troops
appeared in view or doom came.
What we went through with during
those months heaven alone knows.
Day after day we fought the black
dervishes of the desert, and thou
sands laid down their lives in front Of
| Khartoom's walls. Now it was q
| sally; anon, an attack. We might
but for the treachery of certain lead
ers. Gordon tried them later, and all
were shot. He would not stand insub-
ordination.
THUS months passed. We endured
all that can come during that pestilen-
tial season from July. when tie city
was invested. The weeks passed us
| by in a way that was maddening.
Our eyes were strained looking for the
succor that never came. Through it
all Gordon was the same man I have
| ever know him, cheerful, sober, and