*CHAPTER X*
*The Fight in the "Coffee-cup"*
As I fired so did Griffiths; our two rifles went off almost together.
We fired again. Three shots also came from Webster's side of the gap.
The effect was immediate.
Those camel-drivers who were abandoning their camels and creeping up to
what they thought was safety, stopped; those still squatting among the
camels scrambled to their feet; the little string of moving figures, the
last of the rear-guard (it was at them we had fired) turned, looked up,
and tried to find cover. Unfortunately for them there was no cover
where they were, and they showed up against the rocks sufficiently well
to make fair targets. We kept on firing at them, firing almost
vertically downwards, and presently saw one stumble and fall off the
path among the boulders strewn at the bottom. The rest managed to crawl
safely down the last "leg" of that zigzag and scattered among those same
boulders, hiding one by one.
I had no fear that they would "spot" us yet, because the Lee Metfords
made scarcely a streak of smoke. For the same reason they would not be
able to know how few we were.
Jaffa, having given my message to Webster, returned and crawled to my
side, and told me the comforting news that he had seen the horses, quite
two miles away down the valley, with very few men left to guard them.
As I peered below I could see the camel-drivers seeking cover all along
the line, squeezing themselves behind rocks or underneath the motionless
camels themselves. We made many of them hurry still more by firing at
them, until in less than a minute after we had opened fire there was
absolutely nothing to be seen on the wall of precipitous rocks except
the zigzag line of camels--some standing, others kneeling, some facing
upwards, others downwards.
Jaffa cried for me to look.
At the bottom, hastening back round that projecting corner of rock which
hid the outlet from the "coffee-cup", many little moving dots appeared.
I seized the glasses, and believed I could see the green turban of the
sheikh. Dropping them I called to Griffiths to fire, and emptied my
magazine into the middle of the group.
It was grand, it was just what I had wanted. The more men we forced to
come back within sight the fewer would remain to defend the ravine out
of sight, where we could not get at them.
Now if only the _Intrepids_ would hurry up!
I pricked up my ears. One solitary report of a rifle came up from
below, dull and muffled. More followed rapidly, and I fully expected to
hear bullets coming our way, thinking that the sheikh's party had
commenced firing in our direction. However, none came, nor could I see
any spurts of flame from among those boulders, although it was so gloomy
there that I certainly should have seen them had those fellows been
firing at us. The only explanation could be that the firing was outside
the ravine, and must be at the _Intrepid's_ people--or perhaps _from_
them. My ears tingled as I tried to decide which.
The volume of fire increased so rapidly that soon I could not
distinguish individual shots; there was one continuous grumbling rumble,
and suddenly whatever doubt I had was swept away, for I heard the
tut-tut-tut-tut of a Maxim--faint but unmistakable.
That settled the question. Griffiths shouted: "They've come, sir;
that's their Maxim," and a moment later, to make still more certain, a
sudden flash of flame burst out among those boulders at the bottom of
the "coffee-cup" and the noise of a bursting shell came bellowing up to
us.
I found myself waving my arms and cheering; the others were doing the
same. Some vultures which had remained indifferent to the noise of
rifle firing flapped heavily up from below. The camel-leaders were
peeping down to see what was happening; the camels themselves showed no
signs of alarm.
Several more shells bursting there in quick succession so filled the
hollow beneath us with smoke that we could see nothing until, very
leisurely, the white cloud began drifting upwards, clinging to
projecting rocks in little eddies, just like the morning mist in some
deep valley before the sun has quite driven it away. Eventually we
could actually smell that powder smoke as it escaped over the "rim" of
the "coffee-cup", and it was the most beautiful scent we could wish for.
Good little nine-pounder! I'd often seen it on the _Intrepid's_ poop.
The noise of the firing continued without cessation, rising and falling
in fierceness, and although we could still hear shells bursting we could
not see them. Probably those first few had been fired before the
_Intrepids_ knew where the Arabs lay concealed.
Occasionally a different sound came up to us--the puff of a bursting
shrapnel--and as I pictured the little balls flinging themselves down
among the rocks, and finding out the defending Arabs, I wondered how
long they would stand such a trial.
The worst of it was that we could take no part.
Those Arabs who had come back with their sheikh--and the rear-guard,
too--had probably wormed their way out of the hollow and were taking
part in the defence. There was no one for us to fire at. A few of the
camel-leaders were in view, though, as they were unarmed, we did not
waste ammunition on them.
All five of us had ceased fire and were listening to the noise of
fighting. We tried to distinguish some difference between the Arab
firing and the shots from our own people, but that screen of rocks
seemed to muffle them and make this impossible. We could not even tell
whether the rattle of the Maxim was getting nearer to us; nor could we
distinguish the firing of the nine-pounder at all.
Whether hours seemed minutes or minutes hours I could not tell. All I
did know was that we were not helping, and that it might be impossible
for the _Intrepid's_ people to dislodge the Arabs. What could we do to
compel some of them to come back? I racked my brains but could think of
nothing.
Then Jaffa suggested shooting the camels. "You shoot camels--they fall
down--break rifles--Bedouin lose camels and rifles as well--must come
back to save them!"