A PRIVATE BATTLE.
INCIDENT OF THE SUDANESE CAMPAIGN. When in the Sudan, in the June of 1895, I and my orderly, Shawish Nimr Ali, were at a point on the bank of the Nile about one mile north of our camp. We stood for a moment facing the stream, when suddenly I heard the snapping of twigs close by, and, looking round I saw a number of men with rifles advancing rapidly towards us through the trees. The growth at this spot had evidently been very thick, but the brushwood had been burned, and nothing remained but a dense overgrowth, which effectively kept out the light from an underlying network of charred trunks and bushes. In amongst these obstacles the riflemen came leaping along, holding their weapons in front of them, and not uttering a sound. I immediately supposed, seeing that they had no coloured patches on their "jibbas," that they were a party of our "fricndlies" (Bauda) from Adarama. My orderly, however who had been a dervish himself, shouted, '"'These are not Banda, but dervishes ; let us get off the top." And as he spoke, they all fired point-blank at us, . at a distance of from ten to twenty yards. With a single jump to our rear we found ourselves on a ledge of the river bank which served as a parapet, and, with only our heads and shoulders exposed,, our rifles being luckily already loaded, and my magazine filled, we opened fire. I took a steady aim at the leading dervish, who fell not ten yards away, and was at once dragged off by his comrades. As he collapsed another became prominent, and was similarly dealt with ; likewise a third, and then a fourth, each falling forward and being carried to the rear by his friends. I was busy for a few seconds taking each of my assailants in turn, and the smoke of their fusilade made it difficult for me to see more 1 than the man who became for the moment number one. Shawish Nimr, however, on my right, was working his regulation Martini-Metford carbine with perhaps more moral effect than anything else, when a huge Sudanese who was evidently the leader, crept round to his right, and finding myself, after shooting my fourth man, comparatively neglected, I turned to give him my fifth, round. I took a 3teady aim at about seven yards, but missed fire. The magazine had accidently become cut off. The Sha«rish, however, plied his carbine vigorously, and I got a cartridge into the chamber and was able to look up just as the tall black leader fell lead almost on the top of us, and —the remainder turned and fled. We jumped back on to the bank, and, after hurling insults at our retreating foe, we started to run lack to camp, scarcely able to credit our es:ape. There had been about thirty riflemen, as far as we could judge—tall, flnely-bullt Baggarafl and blacks, all wearing the usual dervish dress, but without the coloured patches. The whole affair had scarcely occupied a minute.—Percy Machell, C, M.G., in "Blackwood's Magazine."
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King Country Chronicle, Volume V, Issue 372, 24 June 1911, Page 6
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518A PRIVATE BATTLE. King Country Chronicle, Volume V, Issue 372, 24 June 1911, Page 6
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