But before we go, we will break the stocks of these four guns, and carry the barrels off, and throw them into the bushes, a mile or two away." As soon as this was done, they mounted and rode on.

They halted in a quarter of an hour and, after Gregory's arm had been bound tightly to his side with his sash, both they and their horses had a good meal of dates.

Then they rode on again, and in three hours saw some white tents ahead.
There was a slight stir as they were seen coming, and a dozen black soldiers sprang up and ran forward, fixing bayonets as they did so.
"We are friends!" Gregory shouted, in Arabic; and Zaki repeated the shout in his own language.
The soldiers looked doubtful, and stood together in a group.

They knew that the Dervishes were sometimes ready to throw away their own lives, if they could but kill some of their enemy.
One of them shouted back, "Stay where you are until I call an officer!" He went back to the tents, and returned with a white officer, whom Gregory at once recognized as one of those who had come up with him from Wady Halfa.
"Leslie," he shouted in English, "will you kindly call off your soldiers?
One of their muskets might go off, accidentally.

I suppose you don't remember me.