Mahmud's own temper grew daily more sullen and fierce.

His own fighting instinct was in favour of the attack his followers longed to deliver, but in his heart he was afraid that the result might be fatal.

It was not the rifles of the infantry that he feared--of these he had no experience--but the artillery, which he had learned, already, could be used with terrible effect.
As Mahmud was drinking heavily, and as the fact that the white soldiers were near at hand added to the fanatical hatred of the emirs and tribesmen, Fatma sent a message by a slave to Gregory, warning him not to show himself outside the little shelter tent, composed of a single blanket, in which he now lived.
At length it became known that the English host was approaching.

As soon as the gunboats brought down news that the Dervishes were no longer following the river bank, but were disappearing into the desert, the Sirdar guessed their intentions.

Nothing could have suited him better.