EASTWARD HO!
Life at sea on board a troopship is to the soldier a dull time. To Jack
the first few days were especially so, as he was prostrated by
sea-sickness, being tormented from time to time by the assiduous
attentions of those of his comrades who were not so bad, and who seemed
never tired of asking him to ‘try a bit of fat pork.’ When he got about
again they were three days out, and standing well down for the Bay of
Biscay.
The colonel kept his men pretty busy, and Jack soon had enough to do.
The second deck had been fitted up as a mess-deck for the men, and below
that was the horse-deck. This was separated longitudinally into three
divisions, the horses standing on each side with their heads facing
inwards, the centre walk being for the men. Each horse was separated
from its companion by a barrier, and had a sling beneath it to prevent
slipping.
Necessarily a good part of the day was spent at ‘stables,’ as tending
the horses was still called; then there was drill when the weather
permitted, and various parades.
There was a good deal of skylarking going on, and much ingenuity was
often displayed in devising practical jokes. In the evening the men
would gather on the forecastle and smoke and tell yarns, those who had
already seen service being eagerly listened to as they told tales of
hairbreadth escapes or thrilling deeds.
Jack and his comrades were thus sitting one fine night, when Sergeant
Linham, taking his pipe from his mouth, blew violently down his nose,
and prefacing his remarks with his usual exclamation, said, ‘Now I want
to know what in all goodness have the Turks to do with this affair? What
are we going to fight the Russians for, and where are we going to begin,
for no one at present seems to know?’
‘You want to know a good deal, sergeant,’ said a trooper named Pearson.
‘As far as I can make out, the Czar’s trying to collar Turkey, and we’re
going to stop him. Anyway, we’re going to have a dust-up; that’s all I
care about.’
‘Just like all the other fools,’ said Linham scornfully; ‘no matter what
the reason so long as we fight; but I want to understand.’
‘A very laudable wish, sergeant,’ said a friendly voice from behind, and
turning they saw Cornet Leland, cigar in hand, among them. The men would
have jumped up, but the cornet bade them keep seated.
‘Would you mind telling us, sir, what we _are_ going to fight about?’
said Linham. ‘I suppose there _is_ a cause.’
‘I suppose there is,’ laughed Leland; ‘but it’s a very involved one. My
uncle has deeply studied the question, and he tells me we have been
partly led into this affair by the French Emperor, who is compelled to
make war on somebody to prevent his country from dwelling on awkward
questions at home.’
‘Just what I should have expected,’ growled Linham; ‘we’re the cat’s-paw
to get the chestnuts out of the fire as usual.’
‘There may be some truth in that,’ said the young officer; ‘but, of
course, there are other causes. The Czar of Russia is practically a
fanatic, with a raging hatred of Moslems; this he makes a pretext for
wishing to take Constantinople under his protection. The other nations
cannot agree to this, especially we who govern millions of Moslems in
India. The Czar has poured an army into Turkey, and we are going either
to drive it out or defend the country against fresh inroads, and the
French are going to help us.’
‘Then we’re not bound for Russia at all?’ said Sergeant Linham in some
disgust.
‘As far as I know, we are not,’ replied Cornet Leland.
‘H’m!’ said Sergeant Linham; ‘seems rather a muddled-up affair to start
with; who knows what it’ll be in six months’ time?’
The sergeant’s words were prophetic.
The voyage was fairly uneventful. Jack was greatly struck with the
appearance of Gibraltar, and he caught a glimpse of Malta. In the
Mediterranean bad weather was experienced, and after passing the
Dardanelles on the 19th of May the _Eveline_ arrived off Constantinople.
The men cheered loudly as they caught their first glimpse of the
enchanting-looking city of mosques and minarets. They proceeded to
Kulali, and there they disembarked and went under canvas. The troops
arrived, and the regiment was all together again, having lost only
twenty-six horses during the passage. On the last day of May they were
marched off to Scutari and inspected by his Imperial Majesty the Sultan
of Turkey, accompanied by a large and glittering staff.
Tired with a long day in the saddle, under a broiling sun, Jack was
preparing to turn in when he saw Will looking for him.
‘Hurrah, Jack! Heard the news?’ cried his chum.
‘No. What is it?’
‘We’re to embark at once for Varna and join the troops there. We shall
be in the thick of it soon, or my name’s not Hodson.’
‘And the sooner the better,’ said Jack; ‘there doesn’t seem to be much
doing here, and it’s hardly worth while coming a thousand or so miles to
be reviewed by an old effigy who hardly seems able to sit a horse.’
Sergeant Linham had much to say about this second embarkation. ‘Seems to
me we’re like a lot of blessed pilgrims wandering about to try and find
a resting-place,’ he said when they were again aboard. ‘Why the dickens
don’t we go somewhere and do something?’
‘Not being a Field-Marshal or a Cabinet Minister, sergeant, I can’t tell
you,’ replied Jack as he gazed over the ship’s side.
The sergeant snorted and walked off, and Jack gazed with admiration at
the magnificent scenery. The sea was a deep-blue, the coast-line much
indented, showing light-green herbage, luxuriance of trees and flowers,
and rounded hills in the background. As they steamed along the blue
channel of ever-varying width, they passed beautiful groupings of wood
and dale, ravine and hillside, among which kiosks, bastions, tall
mosques, noble mansions, and picturesque villages nestled.
The waters abounded in fish, porpoises and dolphins plashing and playing
round the vessel as she cleaved her way against the rapid flood.
Sword-fish occasionally made lightning-like raids at their prey, and
hawks, kites, and sea-eagles flew skimming the surface of the water.
Night set in before they reached the entrance of the Black Sea. As they
passed the forts the sentries yelled out strange challenges and burned
blue lights, which were answered from the vessel. Then they ran into a
drifting, clammy fog, which settled round them like a shroud and
rendered everything as black as pitch, when, shivering after the heat of
the day, Jack sought his berth.
In the morning the same haze hung over everything; but as the sun
increased in power it lifted and soon a line of land, marked by a band
of white clouds, came in sight. As the atmosphere got clearer,
undulating folds of greensward, rising one above the other, and behind
them hilly peaks, all covered with fine verdure, came in sight. The
transport rounded a promontory on the left, passed an earthen fort, and
entered a semicircular bay about a mile and a half in length and a
couple of miles across, and there on its northern side lay Varna. It was
a fine-looking place, showing up well against the hills behind it, a
black-and-white coloured tower and the great lighthouse being the most
conspicuous buildings.
In the bay lay British and Turkish men-of-war and Bulgarian and Armenian
vessels. Small boats by the hundred, mostly containing either jolly
Jack-tars or red-coated soldiers, darted here and there, and many and
cheery were the salutations exchanged.
The transport went on and dropped anchor at the pier, when Jack saw that
the town was surrounded by a stone wall ten feet high, painted white
and loopholed, and that there were some detached batteries mounting
heavy guns.
‘Rum sort of show,’ said Will to Jack. ‘Seems pretty strong.’
‘May be,’ replied Jack; ‘but what’s this coming?’
What had attracted his attention was a regular fleet of large,
flat-bottomed boats, which were then approaching the transport. They
were manned by British tars and marines, and it soon became evident that
the boats were intended to disembark the cavalry. A rare job it was;
but, however, it was at last accomplished successfully, and the ‘Death
or Glory Boys’ assembled together on Bulgarian soil.
They were at once marched off to the British camp, which had been
pitched on a scrub-covered plain about a mile from the town and half a
mile from a large fresh-water lake. As they proceeded they met
detachments of Riflemen, Highlanders, light infantry, Guards, and
Marines; red-coats swarmed everywhere. Presently they passed a number of
French soldiers, Zouaves, fine fellows in baggy red breeches, white
gaiters, and tight-fitting blue jackets, swinging along with their
peculiar gait.
Jack’s was the first cavalry regiment to arrive, and as the Frenchmen
critically surveyed the smart blue and white uniforms, the fluttering
lance-pennons, and other gay trappings, they burst out into a kind of
yell, which the light cavalrymen, taking to be a compliment, answered
with a cheer.
‘If that noise is the best thing the “mounseers” can do in the shape of
a cheer,’ growled Sergeant Linham, glaring at the voluble Frenchmen from
under the peak of his lance-cap, ‘I don’t think much of it.’
English staff-officers were seen in their plain uniforms galloping here
and there, besides dozens of French officers in brass helmets or showy
busbies, glittering with a profusion of gold and silver lace, and
putting the British quite in the shade.
They also saw groups of lazy, indolent Turks, bands of villainous,
cunning-looking Greeks, strings of Armenians, and an occasional
Bulgarian driving an _araba_, handsome fellows, in black sheepskin caps,
baggy breeches, and loose brown jackets, exposing their sunburned
chests. In the sash encircling the waist a yataghan or a pistol was
often stuck; but for all that they had a dull, dejected look, born of
long and cruel oppression by the Turk.
At last the camp, pitched on a dry, sandy table-land was reached. The
artillery were on the right; the commissariat, surrounded by carts,
flocks of sheep, and cattle, on the left; and the Rifles and infantry in
the centre.
Jack’s regiment, after being marched and counter-marched for a
considerable time, was located near the commissariat.
‘Seems as if they didn’t quite know what to do with us now we are here,’
said Jack.
‘Anyway, we’re close to the grub,’ cried Pearson, as he dismounted, ‘and
that’s a thing I highly approve of.’