CHAPTER III 



THE ESCAPE FROM JEDABIA 



DECEMBER 7 dawned brilliantly fine. We rose 

 from our camp beds feeling joyfully that thirty- 

 six hours would elapse before we slept on them 

 again. Our morning was enlivened by the visits of two 

 or three friends from the neighbouring encampments. 

 Sheikh Mohammed, the Haji, came in to tell us that 

 we were welcome visitors to any Beduin camp. He 

 drank three glasses of sweet tea in three gulps, asked in 

 a mysterious whisper for a cigarette, hastily put the 

 whole packet into his sleeve and demanded that I should 

 repeat suras from the Koran to him. I did so to the 

 best of my ability and he was much impressed. We 

 meant to sleep in the afternoon, but the unsuspecting 

 Sayed had most kindly ordered his slaves to perform a 

 dance in our honour, so about 3 p.m. the sound of drums 

 was heard outside our blind walls. Ali summoned us 

 forth in great excitement. We sat on two chairs before 

 our door and gradually the whole male population of 

 Jedabia gathered round us, row upon row of shrouded 

 white figures crouching on the sand. In an irregular 

 circle round a couple of hide drums danced the black 

 Sudanese slaves from Wadai, bought in the market at 

 Kufara, presents from native potentates to the Senussi 

 family, or children of slaves sent by the famous Ali 

 Dinar, Sultan of Darfur. Slavery in the East is a kindly 

 institution, quite unlike the horrors of "Uncle Tom's 

 Cabin." The blacks are treated as part of the family. 



