A MAD RACE
Burnet was too well experienced in eastern travel to commence his
journey in the heat of the day. He found a fairly quiet khan where he
rested until the late afternoon, not forgetting to complain bitterly of
his summary dismissal by a camel-driver whom it was impossible to
please.
When at last he started, he struck across a line of low hills to the
north-east, towards a wide bend in the Euphrates just below the
latitude of Kut el Amara. Between the hills and the river the country
was marshy and desolate, and he felt pretty secure against encounters
with inquisitive wanderers. His idea was to swim the Euphrates at the
northern extremity of the bend, from which the _tell_ of Tukulti-Ninip
was about a march distant.
Night overtook him before he reached the river, and since he did not
know this part of the country well enough to proceed in darkness, he
found himself obliged to seek a resting-place, and passed the night
hours somewhat uneasily in a sandy hollow. At dawn he was up again,
and had arrived at the edge of the marshy district when the midday heat
again compelled a halt. Hitherto he had met no one; in the distance he
had seen one or two bird catchers moving upon the marsh. He slept
through the afternoon, and had just started again when a squadron of
Turkish irregular cavalry emerged from behind a mound sparsely covered
with ruins, where the troopers had probably off-saddled during the heat
of the day.
Of all men these were such as he least desired to meet. The Turks were
so eager to snap up recruits that no explanations or excuses, no
feigning of half-wittedness, were likely to avail him if he were
caught. Unluckily the country was devoid of cover until he could gain
the marsh reeds nearly half a mile away; the cavalry were, when he
caught sight of them, a little farther distant in the opposite
direction. If he could once plunge among the reeds he had a reasonable
chance of escaping, for the horses would be at a disadvantage on the
boggy ground. But at a second glance he abandoned hope; the men must
have seen him; they would reach the reeds first, and it was so small a
patch that they could encircle it and soon beat him out. Flight was
evidently useless; he must put the best face on it and trust to mother
wit.
Even as he made up his mind to this, three men detached themselves from
the squadron, which appeared to be about a hundred strong, and galloped
towards him. Their comrades pursued their course upstream at a walk.
When the men rode up to him, one of them ordered him to follow them: he
must come before their officer. He assumed as silly a look as he
could, and without replying, walked on at the same sauntering gait that
he had adopted as soon as he saw the soldiers.
"Now, ass-head, bestir yourself," cried the man who had addressed him.
"The captain is a hasty man."
"Ahi! Ass-head I am, but my legs--are not they the legs of a man? How
should they keep pace with the legs of these mules?"
"Mules! What a foolish fellow is this! Take hold of my stirrup, and
run."
Burnet clutched at the horse's tail, then shrank back.
"Woe is me! Shall I have more dealings with a shaving-brush?"
"By the Beard, he has not the wits of a calf," said another of the men.
"Take him up behind you, Hassan."
The trooper, a brawny Kurd, stooped, took Burnet by the middle, and
hoisted him with apparent ease to the horse's crupper.
"Put your arms round me," he said, and galloped off.
On their catching up with the squadron the captain gave the order to
halt, the trooper let Burnet down, and led him to his officer,
explaining that he seemed to be an idiot, not knowing a horse from a
mule nor a tail from a stirrup iron.
"Your name?" demanded the captain.
"Yusuf, may you live for ever," replied Burnet.
"What are you? Why are you wandering here alone?"
"Ahi! I am an ass-head; that giant there says so, and so did my
master, Firouz Ali."
"The barber of Bagdad!"
"Truly he is a barber, and of Bagdad; and he has brushes and sharp
knives and soap, and he pours water on the soap----"
"This must be that witless apprentice of the barber's," the captain
interrupted, "of whom they tell that he filled the mouth of Bukkad Bey
with soap."
"Mashallah! was it not well done?" cried Burnet, with a foolish smile.
"It was like cream in a cup of raspberries."
"The boy is a fool," said the captain. "You left Firouz Ali: what are
you doing here?"
"Truly I am gazing at the sun, noble effendi," said Burnet innocently,
fixing his eyes on the officer's round fat face. "My father says my
face is the moon, and he wants to see it." He took out the Arabic
note, unfolded it, and offered it to the captain, who however pushed it
away impatiently.
"Answer my question: what have you done since you left the barber?"
"Eaten and drunk and slept, and suffered many stripes at the hands of
one Ibrahim, a driver of camels. It is true I am an ass-head, for he
too called me so, and having brought me to the town yonder, he sent me
away; and I am even now going to my home in the Beni Lam country to
feed the goats. It is all I am fit for."
The captain looked him up and down.
"He is a fool, but his limbs are sound," he said. "He is good enough
for the infantry. Take him up behind you again, Hassan. We will see
what they make of him in Bagdad."
The squadron moved off at an easy trot. Burnet was alarmed at the turn
things had taken. He had little doubt that Firouz Ali would find some
means of preventing his enlistment in the army; but the delay would
prevent his meeting with Captain Ellingford at the _tell_ and render it
impossible for him to convey his information to headquarters, at any
rate for some time to come. Meanwhile the young chief Rejeb's tribe
was in danger of annihilation. However, there was no help for it.
Bagdad was a long way off, and before they got there he might find a
means of escaping.
As they rode along, Burnet listened to the troopers' conversation.
They appeared to be a mixed lot, and spoke in a variety of dialects
which he found very puzzling. But from words he made out here and
there he gathered that the squadron had been on a reconnaissance down
the right bank of the Euphrates. The mention of Halil's name now and
again seemed to indicate that the expedition had been in some way
connected with the impending attack on Rejeb. Whether it had been made
in anticipation of that attack, to collect information, or whether the
squadron was a part of the force detailed for the actual operations,
Burnet was unable to determine. If the raid on Rejeb's people had
actually occurred, his chances of finding an open route, should he
succeed in crossing the Euphrates, were small indeed. The enemy would
almost certainly hold the country through which he must travel, and
probably in some strength. But from what he knew of the Turk it seemed
unlikely that the expedition had even started yet. General Eisenstein
had mentioned a month; there were still some days to spare, and not
even the driving force of the German would have the effect of keeping
either Turks or Arabs up to time. The month would probably extend to
five or six weeks before the organisation of the expedition was
sufficiently complete to satisfy Eisenstein, who, like all the German
high command, would not move until he felt assured that every possible
contingency had been foreseen and provided for.
Burnet cast many a longing glance at the fine Arab ridden by the
captain. It trod the sand with the high step and graceful movement of
the thoroughbred, and a gallop on its back would have been a sheer joy.
The squadron continued their march for some time after sunset,
intending to bivouac at a spot which they had used for the purpose on
the way down. It was a mound rising slightly above the marsh which had
extended along their right flank the whole of the day. When they
halted, the captain gave orders that Burnet should be tied up during
the night. He was allowed first to eat a meal of his own dates, washed
down with tepid, musty water from the skin he carried. It was an
unpleasant night. His feet were hobbled, and his hands being bound, he
suffered a good deal from the depredations of mosquitoes which he was
unable to brush away. The birds and animals of the marsh kept up a
strident chorus. Occasionally a wild boar with his family could be
heard crashing through the reeds. It was impossible to sleep except in
fitful snatches, and Burnet beguiled the wearisome hours by trying to
form some plan of escape. He made several attempts to release his
hands, but the trooper who had tied the cords had done his work
thoroughly. Until his hands were free the most ingenious scheme for
eluding his captors was a mere beating of the air; and he had to
confess to himself that even then the chances of getting away from so
many well-mounted men were not worth reckoning.
Overcome by weariness, Burnet was at last in a deep sleep when, at the
first sign of dawn, the camp was astir. He was wakened, his bonds were
loosed, and he was permitted to make a frugal meal again while the
troopers saddled up in preparation for starting. Burnet noticed that
the squadron had diminished in numbers, and learnt by and by that two
or three parties of half a dozen men each had ridden off very early to
scout in various directions.
Looking around him, he observed a wide glittering expanse some three
miles or more to the east--no doubt the Euphrates shining in the
morning sunlight. Rush-grown pools in the middle distance suggested
that the intervening country was marshy.
Burnet's limbs were a good deal cramped by the uneasy postures he had
had to adopt during the night, and he thought it well to assume a
greater degree of stiffness than he actually felt. Uttering many
doleful lamentations on his unhappy lot, he sat down and rocked himself
to and fro until one of the troopers told him (with a scornful gibe on
his lack of wit) to walk about if he wished to ease his aching. The
majority of the men were squatting or lying on the ground beside their
horses. The captain, in the centre of the mound some twenty yards away
from Burnet, was examining the surrounding country through his field
glasses. His horse was being walked up and down by his orderly, who
eyed the benumbed prisoner with a certain amusement as he passed him.
Burnet ignored the man and looked only at the horse, admiring the
graceful high-mettled creature.
Suddenly a wild idea set his blood leaping. He rose, as if in response
to the trooper's suggestion, and began to walk up and down, slowly and
stiffly. Every moment he drew nearer to the short stretch on which the
orderly was giving his master's horse gentle exercise. He allowed the
man to pass him once, but as he returned from the end of his beat,
Burnet gathered himself together, threw himself upon the Turk, and with
a straight right-hander, shot out with all his strength, sent him
staggering back. Half dazed as he was, the man still clutched the
bridle. There was no time to loosen his grip. The plunging of the
horse had already attracted the officer's attention, and Burnet was
partly hidden from him by the animal's body. While the orderly was
still staggering, Burnet vaulted into the saddle, and the scared animal
wrenched himself from the man's relaxed grip and dashed across the
mound towards the open country.
The officer had rushed forward, and with a furious imprecation sent
three bullets in quick succession after the runaway. Burnet
instinctively ducked; he discovered afterwards that one of the shots
had perforated his water skin. The camp was in uproar. The troopers
had sprung up, and in obedience to their captain's frenzied commands
leapt into their saddles. Then began the maddest gallop that the
plains of Babylonia had ever seen. Burnet felt that at every stride
his mount must come to grief. At the start he had clung to the horse's
mane, at the same time pressing his knees into its flanks with a
muscular energy of which he felt the resulting strain for several days.
The reins hung loose, the stirrups danced, and it was only by sheer
horsemanship that Burnet was able to retain his seat until he recovered
the former, which he had feared might trip the horse up. To slip his
feet into the stirrups was impossible while the mad pace was maintained.
It was some moments before he realised that his steed was carrying him
towards the south-west, away from his goal. With a firm grip now on
the reins he managed to edge the horse gradually to the left, and,
still at the same furious gallop, made straight towards the river.
Lying low on the horse's neck, he glanced round, and saw, as he had
expected, that the troopers were strung out in an irregular line behind
him. Some, divining his intentions, were already heading to cut him
off. And now his familiarity with the Arab horse served him well. By
degrees he brought the frightened animal under control, and checked its
pace, realising that its panic would soon exhaust its strength. He had
little fear that the trooper's heavier horses would overtake him; but
there was a risk of meeting one of the scouting parties which had
ridden off an hour or two before, and he might need all his mount's
reserve of speed to avoid being cut off.
Having mastered the horse, he was able to give his mind to a rapid
calculation of his course of action. It was of the first importance
that he should keep off the marsh, for if the animal were mired, within
a few minutes he would find himself the target for fifty odd rifles.
Even a convenient bed of reeds would hardly save him, for as one
against fifty he would stand no chance. Before he attempted to cross
the river his object must be to ride the pursuers out of sight, a
difficult matter on the flat plain, which was almost devoid of cover.
It was a case of trusting to the horse's stamina. Keeping therefore
within touch of the edge of the marsh, he settled to a fast steady
trot, every now and then looking over his shoulder for a sight of his
pursuers.
For some time Burnet's resolution to spare his horse prevented him from
increasing his lead appreciably. Indeed, the pursuers began to gain
upon him. But he was so confident in his mount's superiority that this
fact did not disturb him. Barring accidents, he could outstrip the
more heavily mounted troopers at his pleasure.
Now that this plan of action was clearly outlined, he began to feel the
exhilaration of the race. The horse had lost his fright, and already
seemed to have entered into that mutual understanding which is
established between a thoroughbred animal and a skilled rider. The air
of early morning was crisp and still; there was no wind to sweep dust
into his eyes, and the sand that flew up under the horse's hoofs hung
in a cloud behind him.
His only anxiety was concerned with the scouting parties, and he looked
more frequently ahead, and to his right, than towards the pursuers
behind. There was little or no danger to be feared from the marsh on
his left, but at any moment one of the detachments might appear on the
plain to the south or west.
This apprehension proved to be well-founded. He presently caught sight
of what appeared to be a low cloud far away to the south-west, and a
few minutes later he was able to distinguish a number of specks in the
midst of it. These grew rapidly larger as they approached, and he at
length counted seven horsemen riding close together, and almost
certainly troopers of the squadron. He had just time, perhaps, to
avoid them; but whether he struck off to the right or left he would
arouse their suspicion, especially as they must already have seen the
string of pursuers in his rear. They could hardly fail also to
recognise their captain's horse, and would probably guess that a
horse-stealer had been at work and ride to cut him off, or, what would
be worse, dismount and fire. It seemed best to take the bold course:
to ride straight towards them, leaving them in doubt as to the meaning
of the chase until he was close upon them.
Bending low upon the horse's neck to avoid recognition as long as
possible, he groped for his revolver and held on his way. As he
approached the party, their actions showed that they were puzzled.
They halted, gesticulated, gathered in a group to debate the matter.
No doubt they thought that a fugitive would hardly ride straight into
their midst. But before Burnet had ridden another hundred yards he saw
that the critical moment was at hand. The men suddenly broke apart; it
appeared that they had at last recognised him, for they unslung their
rifles. And now for the first time Burnet made the supreme call upon
his horse. The gallant beast shot forward instantly, closing in upon
the group with amazing speed. With the instinct of leaderless men, the
Turks, evidently disconcerted, bunched themselves together again, and
lost a few precious moments in fumbling with their rifles. Before they
had aligned themselves and got their weapons ready Burnet was upon
them. When some twenty yards distant, a touch on the rein caused his
horse to swerve slightly to the left, and the nearest Turk, dropping
his rifle, drew his tulwar and aimed a sweeping cut at Burnet as he
flashed by. Burnet felt the air of the stroke as it missed him by
inches. Turning on his saddle, he fired his revolver, rather with the
object of inspiring caution and respect than with the expectation of
hitting any of the enemy. At such a headlong speed to take aim was
impossible. His shot, in truth, missed. He heard four scattered
cracks: the rifle bullets whistled past; but he was already many yards
beyond the stationary group, and when the thunder of pursuit reached
his ears, he was confident that, with a clear course now before him, he
could shake off the new pursuers if his horse could stand the pace.
When next he glanced back, one man was hard on his heels, but the rest
were strung out at various intervals behind him, and the original
pursuers were rapidly losing ground. There was nothing to fear except
from the one man who was evidently better mounted than his comrades.
He carried his rifle still unslung, and though an Arab of the desert
might have found it a useful weapon even at the breakneck speed at
which they were riding, it was not likely that a Turkish trooper would
possess the dexterity of his wilder brother. But it was clearly
necessary to dispose of this man. Burnet slightly checked his horse,
and trusting it with its own course he looked back continually over his
shoulder and watched the Turk foot by foot reducing the gap between
them. From forty yards it became thirty--twenty--and then Burnet
turned suddenly in the saddle and took a snap shot at the pursuer. It
went wide. The Turk gave a shout of triumph, flourished his tulwar,
and came galloping on. At fifteen yards Burnet tried another shot, and
before he could see the effect of it, had to turn hastily to control
the horse, whom the repeated shots had apparently disturbed. But he
was conscious that the sounds of pursuit had died away, and glancing
round a few moments later he saw that the Turk had reined up and was
dismounting. That he was not seriously hurt was soon proved. Burnet
had only just faced forward again when a bullet sang past his ear. "A
good shot," he thought, and bent low to avoid a second. But no other
came, and glancing back, he saw that the man's comrades had galloped
past him, and were now between him and the quarry. There was no fear
of further rifle practice.
[Illustration: THE LAST SHOT]
Burnet was surprised that the troopers had not by this time
relinquished the chase, for they were hopelessly outpaced, and must be
losing a yard in every twenty. Probably they had unpleasant
anticipations of their captain's wrath if they returned unsuccessful,
and were hoping against hope that accident would give the fugitive into
their hands. It was only after they had continued the pursuit for
another mile or so that they at last recognised its futility.
Dismounting, they tried to snipe Burnet's fast-lessening figure. In
another five minutes he was beyond effective range, and with a sigh of
contentment drew rein.
"Well done, old fellow," he said, patting the steaming neck of the
quivering horse. "You have earned a rest."