A Modern Odyssey
Farnworth regained his feet with great agility and assisted Dick to
rise. Feeling considerably shaken by his unexpected tumble, the Sub
was temporarily winded. For the moment he imagined that his ankle had
been sprained, and on placing his hand upon that part of his leg he
made the discovery that it was bleeding freely.
"By Jove, sir!" whispered the midshipman, "we've had a narrow squeak.
Look!"
The reflection from the search-light made it possible to discern their
immediate surroundings. The pit had vertical sides and measured
roughly thirty feet by ten, and was about eight feet in depth. It had
been covered by a thin layer of rushes supported by slender poles, but
the fall of the two officers had resulted in the collapse of the
greater part of the covering of the booby-trap. But what had
occasioned Farnworth's exclamation was that the floor was plentifully
studded with sharp wooden spikes, and it was only owing to the fact
that Dick and his companion had stumbled over from the innermost side
that they had escaped being impaled. Had they been members of an
attacking force and had fallen into the trap while advancing against
the fort, they would almost to a certainty have been transfixed by the
wicked-looking spikes.
"We have," assented Crosthwaite dryly, "judging by the state of von
Eitelheimer's trousers. One of the spikes has ripped them pretty
badly, and, what is more, has given my ankle a little gash. Hope to
goodness the beggars haven't poisoned the spikes!"
"I'll give you a leg up, sir," suggested the midshipman. "We'll have
to go jolly slow till we get outside the earthworks. The whole place
is a honeycomb of death-traps."
"No, I'll give you a hoist--I'm heavier than you," said Dick. "Wait
till I've knocked a bit of thatch off at the end of the pole. It will
serve as a guide."
Having done so, the Sub bent down while his companion clambered on his
back. Farnworth was then able to raise himself on to the brink of the
booby-trap and gain the upper ground. Then, lying at full length, he
attempted to help his comrade up, but without success. The sides of
the pit afforded no foothold.
"Can you dig out a niche with your sword, sir?" he asked.
"I'll try; but the stuff's so infernally soft," declared Dick. "Hallo,
what's up now?"
"Turks!" announced Farnworth.
At that moment a search-light, that for the last ten minutes had been
directed skywards, flung its rays athwart the ground, and the
midshipman's grey uniform was shown up as if made of silver. To escape
detection was impossible, for about a dozen Turkish infantrymen were at
that moment hurrying towards the outlying trenches. With the outcome
of local knowledge they were shaping a course to clear the edge of the
pitfall.
Quickly Farnworth made up his mind and acted promptly. With a
commanding gesture he stopped the men and ordered them to approach.
This they did smartly and without suspicion. A corporal in charge of
the party saluted, and, shouting an order to his men, brought them up
with some semblance of order.
Imperiously the midshipman signed to them to assist his companion out
of the pitfall. This they did with extreme alacrity, prompted by fear
of their supposed German officers. Having regained his temporary
freedom, Dick, without any attempt at thanks, ordered them in German to
replace the dislodged cover to the pit. One of the Turks understood
sufficient German to know what was required; the squad set to work,
while Dick and his companion unconcernedly walked off.
"We must trust to luck not to find a German in this section of the
advanced trenches," said Dick as they drew well clear of the scene of
their late misadventure. "We'll have to risk it, for there's no other
way."
Cautiously picking their path between numerous rifle-pits and concealed
machine-guns, the two fugitives made for a part of the defences where a
gap appeared to exist between the trenches. Here men were hard at work
under the direction of Turkish officers. The latter saluted as the
supposed German officers approached, but made no attempt to converse
with them. Instead they urged their men to greater efforts, as if
everything depended upon satisfying their Teutonic masters in the art
of war.
By this time the Allied air squadron had disappeared. Without
sustaining injury, and having done considerable damage to Fort
Medjidieh, the sea-planes returned to their parent ship, the _Ark
Royal_. Once more the Turkish search-lights directed part of their
activities to sweeping the surrounding country.
Arriving at the farthermost line of trenches, Dick coolly mounted the
parapet and took a careful survey of their general direction and
character. He noticed that they were extraordinarily deep and narrow,
so that unless a shell actually pitched into a trench the danger to the
Turkish defenders was comparatively small. Another matter which
attracted his attention was the number of machine-guns. Not only were
there dozens concealed a hundred yards or so to the rear of the
foremost trenches, but the parapets of the trenches fairly bristled
with these deadly weapons. Roughly, there was one to every five yards,
each gun being protected by a heavy V-shaped shield. The Turks had
thoroughly mastered the principles of modern warfare under European
conditions, and the task of the Allied Expeditionary Force was to be a
very stiff one.
The Sub and his companion quite realized the extreme risk they were
running. To be captured in the disguise of German officers meant an
ignominious death as spies, but their audacity completely disarmed
suspicion. To all appearances they were zealously visiting the Turkish
troops engaged in perfecting the landward defences.
After a lengthy survey Dick leisurely descended the low parapet, and,
accompanied by the midshipman, strolled towards the soldiers engaged in
erecting barbed-wire entanglements in front of the trenches and
clearing away the brushwood that might afford cover to an attacking
force.
Then, watching their opportunity, the twain walked steadily past the
workers and gained the comparatively open country.
Since an attack was not for the present expected, no outlying pickets
had been posted. On descending a slight irregularity in the terrain
Dick and the midshipman found themselves out of the direct glare of the
search-light, while every step took them farther and farther away from
the scene of their captivity during the last six weeks.
"Which way now, sir?" asked Farnworth.
"Due east until it gets light. Then we'll have to lie low during the
day, and shape a course for the neighbourhood of Kum Kale as soon as it
becomes dark again."
"I'm beginning to feel jolly hungry, sir."
"And so am I," admitted Dick. "The problem of how we are to attend to
the victualling department must not be lost sight of. But for the
present we must put as great a distance as possible between us and our
pursuers--and I hope they won't look for us in this direction."
On and on they plodded steadily, maintaining silence and straining
their ears for sounds of human beings. Being night the peasantry took
good care not to be about, for the civilian population, consisting
almost entirely of old men, women, and children, had been warned of the
danger of being in the vicinity of the defences after sunset.
"Something moving," reported the midshipman, "and precious close, too."
The two officers halted and listened intently.
Not so very far away on their right front came a succession of soft
thuds, as if caused by someone dropping a number of sand-bags with
considerable regularity.
"Camels," whispered the Sub.
He was right. A convoy bearing supplies was on its way from the
interior towards the Dardanelles forts. They passed along a rough
track within fifty feet of the spot where the officers lay hidden--a
hundred or more patient beasts heavily laden, and in charge of a number
of natives. About a dozen Bashi Bazouks, fierce-looking fellows whose
weapons gleamed in the dull light, served as an escort.
The fugitives waited until the sounds of the passing convoy had died
away.
"Bear more to the left," whispered Dick. "We're converging too much
upon a hill road. We'll have to foot it pretty briskly, for it must be
sunrise within an hour."
"Isn't it about time we discarded our rotten togs?" asked Farnworth,
whose whole being felt repugnance at the idea of having to don the
dishonourable uniform of Germany.
"They'll come in useful again before very long, unless I am much
mistaken," declared Dick. "Now, steady. We're beginning the ascent of
Biyuk Dagh. We'll be fairly beyond pursuit now, I fancy."
"I feel as if I'd like to burst into song out of sheer delight, after
being cooped up for nearly six weeks," declared Farnworth.
"No, don't," said Dick hurriedly and with well-feigned anxiety. "It
would be hard luck to pile the whole of the agony upon me: wait till
you're back in the gun-room."
The midshipman smiled grimly. He had a most atrocious voice when it
came to singing, and he knew it. Far from being sensitive on the
point, he took the Sub's banter in good part.
Up and up the fugitives toiled, until from sheer breathlessness they
were compelled to throw themselves upon the ground. The sight that met
their was superb.
The whole of The Narrows and a large portion of the rest of the
Dardanelles was plainly visible: a narrow silvery streak under the
beams of innumerable search-lights. Beyond, also marked by the sources
of dozens of slowly-swaying beams of light, were the forts on the
European side, backed by the lofty hills of the narrow Gallipoli
peninsula. Twenty miles away a regular galaxy of light marked the
position of the Allied fleets, the search-lights of which kept
ceaseless watch and ward against any possible, nay probable, attempt on
the part of the Turks to assail them by means of their destroyers and
torpedo-boats.
"Reminds me of Spithead on review nights as seen from the top of
Portsdown Hill," declared Farnworth. "I wish I were there now! No, I
don't. I'd rather be over there."
And he pointed in the direction of the British fleet, amongst which
lay, as far as he knew, the old _Hammerer_.
"Better be moving," suggested Dick.
Although he said nothing about the matter to his companion, he was
beginning to become painfully aware of the injury to his ankle. So
long as he kept in motion the injury troubled him but little; during
his enforced rest it began to burn and throb. The pangs of hunger were
also making themselves felt. With the rising of the sun he knew that
another discomfort--thirst--would be added to their lot.
Long before the fugitives reached the summit of the steep mountain,
dawn was upon them. With a rapidity that almost equalled the shortness
of the tropical break of day, it grew light; then above the crest of a
yet unsurmounted hill rose the sun.
"Phew! It is hot," ejaculated Farnworth, opening his greatcoat. Then
he stopped and burst out into laughter.
"We are a proper pair, sir," he exclaimed.
Their faces were grimed with dirt and dust; their grey uniforms were
discoloured with mud and rent in several places, owing to their
encounter with the prickly bushes. Dick's rough-and-ready "shave" with
the scissors had left enough bristles to give him a truly ferocious
appearance, while Farnworth's face was streaked with dried blood from
several scratches he had received during the hazardous journey from
Fort Medjidieh.
Acting upon their previous plans the two officers "laid low" during the
greater part of the day. Fortunately they were able to assuage their
thirst at a rivulet that trickled down the mountainside, but the pangs
of hunger had become most acute.
Although there was plenty of activity in and around the forts, there
were no signs of life in the vicinity of the fugitives; so at about
four in the afternoon--according to Crosthwaite's estimate from the
position of the sun--they resolved to run the risk of detection and
push on in search of food.
An hour's steady walk brought them to a rough mountain track. This
they followed by a parallel course, not daring to keep to the path, and
after twenty minutes they came in sight of a village.
It was a miserable collection of hovels, situated in a narrow valley,
yet it boasted of a small mosque with a slender minaret. There were no
signs of any men, but, in the rough pasture close to the hamlet, veiled
women were tending flocks of sheep and goats.
"We'll tackle the business openly," declared Dick. "If we tried to
sneak up to the nearest hut and collar some grub there might be a
rumpus. If, on the other hand, they think we are German officers
they'll be only too glad to provide us with food in order to get rid of
our presence."
Pulling themselves together the two pseudo-German officers swaggered
boldly into the village. From barred lattices, yashmaked women peeped
timorously. A few ragged children scampered off, crying loudly at the
sight of the Franks. Half a dozen lean dogs quarrelling over a heap of
garbage directed their attention with savage growls to the strangers,
until Dick drove them off by planting a well-aimed stone in the
leader's ribs.
Hearing the commotion, a dignified old man came from one of the larger
of the houses close to the mosque. He was the imaum or priest. With a
courteous salutation he invited the supposed German officers to enter,
but before crossing the threshold he signified that they would have to
remove their boots.
Nothing loath, Dick and the midshipman complied. A youth brought a
basin of water, a towel, and two pairs of soft-leather slippers. The
needful Eastern ceremony of washing the feet of distinguished
travellers was fully appreciated by the tired wayfarers.
Entering the house, the officers were regaled with a repast of roasted
goat's flesh and cakes made of flour and millet, with unsweetened
coffee and curdled milk. The men attacked the meal ravenously, while
the imaum, seated tailorwise on a low divan, watched them with studious
gravity.
"Medjidieh?" asked Dick after they had satisfied their hunger.
The old man pointed in a westerly direction, and said something to the
youth. The latter immediately picked up his sandals and made for the
door.
Gravely saluting the hospitable Mahommedan priest, Dick and the
midshipman took their departure. Peremptorily dismissing the lad who
had been sent to act as a guide, the officers retraced their steps
until a ridge of intervening ground hid them from the village.
"Decent old sort," commented Farnworth. "I wonder if he would have
been so awfully keen in giving us grub if he knew who we really were?"
"Can't say," replied Dick. "One thing: hanged if I could bring myself
to a display of Prussian arrogance, but by not doing so I might be
giving the show away. Now we'll work our way round the village and
resume our former direction. I made out we were on the way to
Medjidieh. That ought to throw any possible pursuers off the track."
Skirting the village necessitated a wide detour, but before sunset the
fugitives calculated that they had put twenty miles between them and
their prison-fortress. It ought to be fairly safe to attempt a dash
for the coast in the neighbourhood of Kum Kale.
The heat was now terrific in spite of the altitude, so Dick suggested
that they should have "watch below" until the sun had sunk considerably
in the heavens. A thicket afforded a complete shelter from the
pitiless rays, and with a blissful disregard of the danger from
scorpions and other reptiles the two officers crept into the shade and
were soon sound asleep.
Suddenly they were awakened by the dull buzz of an aerial propeller.
Crawling from their place of repose, Dick and the midshipman saw a
French monoplane flying barely two hundred feet above the ground.
"We'll try and attract that fellow's attention," exclaimed Dick. "I
don't suppose he can give us a lift, but he may be able to----"
There was no time to complete the sentence. Dashing out in the open,
the Sub waved his arms, shouting at the top of his voice:
"A nous, camarade. Nous sommes Anglais."
Overhead swept the aeroplane. The observer leant over the chassis and
critically surveyed the two figures in German uniforms. He shouted
something, but the words were unintelligible, although he could
distinctly hear the Sub's call for aid.
"Nous sommes prisonniers Anglais--prisonniers échappés!" bawled Dick
frantically.
The Frenchman again waved his hand. The monoplane calmly continued its
course, then, majestically circling, it began to descend.
"Hurrah!" shouted the midshipman. "Who says the age of miracles has
passed?"
Even as he spoke an irregular volley burst from a slight depression in
the ground about five hundred yards from where the officers stood.
Sharply banking, the aeroplane rose to a safe distance, dropping a bomb
as she did so, then began to retrace its course.
"Look out!" exclaimed Dick warningly, as the monoplane passed nearly
overhead.
Almost at the first report of the rifles the fugitives withdrew from
their exposed position. They were now in danger from another
direction, as Dick had foreseen.
A small black object dropped from underneath the chassis of the
aeroplane. Rapidly gathering speed it fell within twenty yards of the
Sub and his companion. It was a bomb; but owing either to faulty
mechanism or to the fact that it alighted on soft sand, it failed to
explode, otherwise the officers would have been blown to pieces.
"What luck!" muttered Farnworth. "I suppose those fellows took us for
a pair of treacherous German skunks. It wasn't their fault."
"Anyhow, I'm not going to wait till those chaps come up to
investigate," added Dick, referring to the still invisible riflemen.
"So here's off! Keep to the dip in the ground and avoid the sand. We
don't want to leave our tracks."
Breaking into a steady run the fugitives hurried away from the
direction of the interrupters of their peace of mind. Already the
monoplane was a mere speck in the distance.
"Take cover!" hissed Dick breathlessly. "They're on our track."
Once again the two comrades sought shelter in a thicket. They were not
a minute too soon, for amid a cloud of dust about fifty Turkish
irregulars galloped madly down the path. They were armed with Mauser
and Mannlicher rifles and carbines, and in addition a regular armoury
of revolvers and knives, while several wore long curved swords. Some
of them had been wounded by the explosion of the bomb, and rode with
the blood streaming down their faces. Yet each man urged his steed to
its utmost capacity as if with a set purpose, and hardly looking to the
right or left they passed by, leaving only a cloud of suffocating dust
that hung listlessly in the still, hot air.
"I thought they were after us," said Dick, after a safe interval had
elapsed, "but I think I'm mistaken. They've some other little game on."
"Perhaps they didn't see us at all," suggested Farnworth.
"Pretty well certain they didn't, for by this time all the Turkish
troops in the district must have heard of our escape and of our
disguises. Well, let's carry on."
For several hours they plodded wearily along the steep mountain path,
their senses keenly on the alert, since they now knew that cavalry were
in the vicinity. It was somewhat disconcerting to know that a body of
irregulars lay between them and the coast, but both Dick and the
midshipman were curious to know why these horsemen had hurried in the
direction of Kum Kale, since they were not sufficiently numerous to
constitute a danger to any considerable force.
Happening to look over his shoulder, the Sub saw that another body of
men was overtaking them.
It was a mixed column of horse and foot, accompanied by wagons--in fact
a small convoy.
"If we strike away to the right we'll miss them easily, sir," suggested
the midshipman.
Dick shook his head.
"We'll only get 'bushed' at night, that is if the stars are hidden," he
said. "Besides, we're pretty well done up; so we'll lie low and let
these fellows pass. I'm rather anxious to see what they are up to."
The convoy was still a long way off, the advance-guard being quite
three miles from where the officers stood. It was slowly making its
way up the mountain side, the moving line resembling a huge snake as it
wound along the intricate path.
"We're safe enough here," announced Dick, when they had taken up their
position between two fantastically-shaped rocks about fifty yards from
the road.
The overhanging mass afforded complete shelter from the sun, while the
broken ground in the rear would afford excellent cover in case they had
to put a greater distance between them and the approaching convoy.
"Bluejackets!" exclaimed Farnworth.
"You're right," agreed Dick quietly. "Some of them are, at all events.
This looks interesting."
It took more than an hour for the convoy to get abreast of the place
where the fugitives lay concealed. The column was headed by a dozen
Turkish irregular cavalry, similar in appearance to those who had
passed earlier in the day. Following them came a company of infantry,
escorting a number of open wagons drawn by small, hardy-looking ponies.
The wagons were heavily laden with tins of petrol. Following them were
about fifty bluejackets, not of the Ottoman navy, but in the rig of the
Imperial German navy. They were accompanied by five or six German
officers in white-duck uniforms, all of them mounted. At some distance
in the rear came six trucks each containing four large torpedoes, while
the convoy terminated in another troop of Turkish horsemen.
"Fishy, very fishy!" declared Crosthwaite after the column had passed.
"Petrol and torpedoes."
"Suggestive of submarines, sir," remarked Farnworth.
"Exactly. Now the question is, where are those fellows taking that
gear to? Even supposing the French had evacuated the district around
Kum Kale, there would be no particular object in taking them there. A
submarine could take in her stock of torpedoes at Constantinople, and
be piloted through the mine-fields in The Narrows. They might be en
route for Smyrna, but, since there is a railway available, it doesn't
seem at all likely. Evidently a hostile submarine is operating
outside."
"A German?" hazarded Farnworth.
"I hope not; but there is no saying what these fellows will be up to.
Everything seems in their favour in that direction. They can torpedo
our ships, and we have nothing afloat to go for in return. Still, in
sinking their submarines we haven't done so badly, and I guess while
we've been cooped up here our fellows have nabbed a few more. Anyway,
it would be interesting to find out where those torpedoes are going. I
vote we follow at a respectable distance until dusk, and then close on
them a bit."
"I'm game, sir," consented the midshipman.
While daylight lasted they had no difficulty in following the trail.
They were in luck's way, for they found a haversack containing some
dates and half a loaf. The food, washed down by a little spring water,
revived them considerably, the midshipman declaring that he felt
"absolutely bucked".
Towards sunset Dick gave the word for an increased speed, and before
darkness set in they were within two hundred yards of the slowly-moving
rear-guard. By dint of taking cover and advancing with the utmost
caution they managed to keep in touch with the object of their
investigations.
At about midnight the Turco-German force halted. It was evident that
they feared no surprise, for fires were lighted at a safe distance from
the explosives, and the men were permitted to smoke and talk freely.
The irregulars dismounted and, having hobbled their horses, joined the
others around the fires.
It was now bitterly cold, and the glow of the burning wood was
tantalizing to the worn and tired Sub and his companion. Well it was
that they had not discarded the German greatcoats, otherwise their
limbs would have been numbed by the fall in the temperature.
They welcomed the order to resume the march with far more eagerness
than did the men to whom it applied, for Dick could hear the German
officers rating both their own countrymen and the unfortunate Turks.
Judging by the position of the Pole Star, Dick knew that the convoy was
proceeding in a south-easterly direction. The course would bring them
to the sea-coast some distance to the east of Kum Kale and not far from
the Bay of Yenikeui, where the Sub's whaler had met with misfortune.
"We may be able to get in touch with one of our patrol boats," he
remarked. "If so, we'll be taken off; but first, by Jove, I want to
find out the meaning of this nocturnal jaunt!"
Twice the British officers had to fall behind and make a detour round
isolated villages, since it was obviously too risky to follow the
convoy direct; but so slow was its progress that they were able to
re-establish the same relative distance.
"The sea," whispered Dick, "I can hear it."
"And I can smell it," declared Farnworth as he sniffed at the
unmistakably salt-laden atmosphere.
"We're up a tremendous height. Quite a thousand feet, I should
imagine. We'll have to make sure those fellows don't halt their
rear-guard."
For the next two miles the path was steeply on the down grade. Rough
as it had been before, it now almost impassable. The Sub wondered how
the Turks contrived to transport the heavy load of petrol and the
torpedoes without risk of upsetting the former and damaging the
intricate mechanism of the latter. He could hear the grinding of the
wheels over the loose stones and the groaning of the axles of the
burdened vehicles, interspersed with the jabbering of the Turkish
drivers and the guttural of the German officers.
"That's done it!" whispered Dick, laying a restraining hand upon the
midshipman's arm. "They've posted a picket. Let's get back a bit and
discuss matters."
"Couldn't we scale the side of the ravine?" asked Farnworth. "If so,
we can work our way round and still keep the fellows under observation."
"Must, I suppose," replied Dick. "It's literally neck or nothing if we
miss our footing. Thank goodness, it's a starlit night."
Up and up they climbed, frequently having to make their way in a
horizontal direction to avoid an unsurmountable barrier. The cliff was
composed of a series of terraces, the ledges being thickly covered with
bushes and coarse grass.
"Way enough!" exclaimed the Sub in a low voice. "Keep to this ledge as
far as it goes."
Forcing their way through the brambles, with a reckless disregard for
the uniforms of von Eitelheitner and his fat satellite, Dick and the
midshipman found themselves on the brink of a precipice. Two hundred
feet below them the stars were reflected in a placid sheet of
land-locked water. Beyond the barrier of lofty rocks could be heard
the sullen murmur of the open sea.
"No signs of the convoy, sir," said Farnworth.
"No, they've kept wonderfully quiet the half-hour. I hope we haven't
arrived at the wrong rendezvous."
As he spoke a light blinked solemnly from some floating object in the
centre of the lake or creek, whichever it happened to be, for no signs
of any communication with the sea was to be seen in the darkness.
"Ha!"
The Sub's short, sharp ejaculation was the only indication of his
satisfaction. He knew now that his efforts had not been in vain. He
was on the eve of an important discovery.
"What do you make of it, sir?" whispered Farnworth.
"Submarine!" replied Dick briefly.
He was right. It was a submarine signalling with a flashing lamp. He
wished for dawn, for it was impossible to distinguish her in the
darkness.
Thrice she called--and called in vain. No answering signal came from
the spot where the mountain path debouched into the narrow sandy beach.
"Hope she won't clear out," soliloquized the Sub. "I'd like to have a
good look at her. By Jove, it's getting light!"
The reflection of the stars no longer scintillated in the water.
Wreaths of vapour--the mists of morning--were slowly eddying from the
surface. Away to the east the stars were paling under the influence of
the dawn.
Soon the details of the land-locked estuary became visible. There was
a narrow gap in the high ground that communicated with the Ægean Sea.
On the opposite side of the creek were a couple of deserted huts and a
ruined building, that was formerly a mosque, standing in an isolated
position on the summit of a rounded hill. Owing to the mists, the
waters of the creek were hidden from sight.
"Look, sir!" whispered Farnworth, who, lying at full length, was
examining the beach.
Standing at the water's edge were two German naval officers. A few
feet away from them a collapsible boat of the type used in the German
navy was drawn up on the beach, with three bluejackets standing rigidly
at attention by its side.
Just then a gentle zephyr rent the veil of mist.
Dick gasped in astonishment. Well he might, for floating serenely on
the surface was a submarine: not one of the Turkish navy, but one of
the most modern of the German _unterseebooten_.