ATHLETICS--A NEW ACQUAINTANCE TURNS UP--AN EXPEDITION UNDERTAKEN,
FOLLOWED BY A RACE FOR LIFE.
Energetic and exhilarating exercise has sometimes the effect of driving
away sickness which doctors' stuff and treatment fail to cope with
successfully. In saying this we intend no slight either to doctors'
stuff or treatment!
After the troops had been some time at Suakim the effect of the climate
began to tell on them so severely that a very large proportion of
Europeans were in hospital, and many who strove hard to brave it out
were scarcely fit for duty.
Great heat did not, however, interfere with Miles Milton's health. He
was one of those fortunates who seem to have been made of tougher clay
than the average of humanity. But his friend Armstrong was laid up for
a considerable time. Even Robert Macleod was knocked over for a brief
period, and the lively Corporal Flynn succumbed at last. Moses Pyne,
however, stood the test of hard work and bad climate well, and so, for a
time, did Sergeant Hardy. It was found generally that the abstainers
from strong drink suffered less from bad health and unwholesome
surroundings than their fellows, and as there were a good many in the
regiment, who were constantly endeavouring to convince their comrades of
the advantages of total-abstinence, things were not so bad as they might
have been.
It was about this time that one of the generals who visited Suakim
instituted athletic games, thereby vastly improving the health and
spirits of the men. And now Miles Milton learned, for the first time,
what an immense power there lies in "scientific training!"
One evening, when out walking with Stevenson, he took it into his head
to race with him, and, having been a crack runner at school, he beat him
easily.
"Why, Miles," said his friend, when the short race was over, "I had no
idea you could run so well. If you choose I will put you in training
for the coming sports. You must know that I have run and walked and
competed in the track many a time at home, and have trained and brought
out runners, who had no notion of what was in them, till I proved it to
them by training. Will you go in for it, and promise to do as I bid
you?"
"I have no objection," replied Miles, with a light laugh.
If he had known what his friend intended to do he might not have agreed
so readily, for, from that hour till the day of the sports, Stevenson
made him go through an amount of running--even after being made stiff by
previous runs--that he would never have agreed to undertake unless
forced to do so. We say _forced_, because our hero regarded a promise
once given as sacred. His was a curiously compound nature, so that
while in some points of conduct he was lax--as we have seen--in others
he was very strict. He was peculiarly so in regard to promises. His
comrades soon came to know this, and ultimately came to consider him a
very reliable man.
Having, then, promised his friend to keep sternly to his work, he did
so, with the result that his strength increased wonderfully. Another
result was that he carried off the first prize in all the races.
In order to make the most of time and avoid the evils of noonday heat,
it was arranged that the races, etcetera, for the Egyptian soldiers and
natives in Government employ should come off in the morning, and that
the British troops should run in the later and cooler parts of the day.
With the temperature at 120 degrees in the shade it would have been
dangerous for Europeans to compete. The sports, including our familiar
cricket, were greatly enjoyed, and the result was a decided improvement
in the health of the whole force.
Boat-races were also included in these sports. At the conclusion of one
of these, Miles, to his great surprise, encountered his old acquaintance
of the _Sailors' Welcome_, big Jack Molloy.
"Why, Jack!" exclaimed Miles, as the hearty tar wrung his hand, "who'd
have expected to see _you_ here?"
"Ah, who indeed? an' I may say ditto."
"I'm _very_ glad to see you, Molloy, for, to say truth, I thought I had
seen the last of you when we parted in the troop-ship. I've often
thought of you since, and of our first evening together in the--the--
what was its name?"
"The _Sailors' Welcome_--man alive! I wonder you've forgot it.
Blessin's on it! _I_ ain't likely to forget it. Why, it was there,
(did I ever tell you?) the wery night arter I met you, that a messmate
took me to the big hall, back o' the readin'-room. It's no use me
tryin' fur to tell you all I heard in that there big hall, but when I
come out--blow'd if I didn't sign the pledge right away, an' I ain't
took a drop o' grog since!"
"Glad to hear it, Jack, for, to say truth, I never saw the evil of grog
so clearly as I have since coming out here and seeing strong stout men
cast down by it in dozens,--many of them kind-hearted, right-thinking
men, whom I would have thought safe from such a thing. Indeed I have
more than half a mind to join the Good Templars myself."
"Young man," said Molloy, sternly, "if it takes the death of dozens o'
stout kind-hearted men to force you to make up half your mind, how many
d'ee want to die before you make up the whole of it?"
"But I said that my mind was _more_ than half made up," returned Miles,
with a smile.
"Now lookee here," rejoined the sailor earnestly, "it's all wery well
for milksops an' nincompoops and landlubbers to go in for half-an'-half
work like that, but you're not the man I takes you for if you ain't game
for more than that, so I ax you to promise me that you'll sign the
pledge right off, as I did, first time you gits the chance."
"But you forget I'm only a landlubber who, according to you, is fit for
only half-an-half measures," said Miles, who, not being addicted to much
wine, felt disinclined to bind himself.
"No matter," returned the sailor, with deepening earnestness, "if you go
in fur it you'll _never_ repent it! Take my word for that. Now, I ax
ye to promise."
"Well, I _do_ promise--the very first time I get the chance; and that
will be to-morrow night, for our new parson has started temperance
meetings, and he is a great teetotaller."
"An' you promise to stick to it?" added Molloy.
"When I give a promise I _always_ stick to it!" returned Miles gravely.
"Right you are, lad. Give us your flipper!"
The foregoing conversation took place at the harbour, a little apart
from the noisy group of soldiers and sailors who were discussing the
circumstances of the recent boat-race.
Immediately after it Molloy returned to his ship in the harbour, and our
hero to his post in the line of defence.
One of those who had been conspicuous that day in arranging and starting
the races, acting as umpire at the cricket, and, generally, putting
heart and spirit into everything by his quiet good-nature and
self-denying activity, was the young officer of Engineers, who has been
already mentioned as the manager of the mines that were laid around
Suakim. Poor fellow! little did he imagine that that was to be his last
day on earth!
Every morning, as before mentioned, this young officer went out alone to
perform the dangerous work of disconnecting the mines, so that the
inhabitants of the town might go out and in and move about during the
day-time in safety. Again, a little before sunset every evening, he
went out and reconnected them, so that the enemy could not approach the
place without the risk of being blown to pieces. At the same time the
gates were closed, and no one was allowed to leave or enter the town.
On this particular evening the lieutenant went out as usual on his
dangerous mission just after six o'clock. He had not been long gone
when a loud explosion was heard, and a cloud of smoke was seen where one
of the mines had been laid down. A party at once sallied out, and
found, as they had feared, that the brave young fellow had perished. He
had been literally blown to pieces, his head being found in one place,
while other portions of his body were scattered around.
This melancholy incident cast a gloom over the whole place. The remains
of the heroic young engineer were buried next day with military honours.
The garrison was not, however, left long in peace to think over his sad
fate, for the very next night a determined attack was made all along the
line. The annoying persistency of these attacks seemed to have stirred
the indignation of the general in command, for he ordered out a small
force of cavalry to carry the war into the enemy's country.
Critics say that this act was ill advised, and that the cavalry should
not have been despatched without the support of infantry. Critics are
not always or necessarily right. Indeed, we may venture to say that
they are often wrong! We do not pretend to judge, but, be this as it
may, the cavalry was ordered to destroy the village of Handoub about
fifteen miles inland on the caravan route to Berber, and to blow up the
enemy's magazine there.
The force consisted of a troop of the 19th Hussars, and another of
Egyptian cavalry--about fifty men all told--under command of Captain
Apthorp. Our intemperate friend Johnson was one of the little band. He
was sober then, however, as he sat bolt upright on his powerful steed,
with a very stern and grave visage, for he had a strong impression that
the duty before them was no child's-play.
A four hours' ride brought them to the village. The few Arabs who dwelt
in it fled at once on their approach, and in a very short time the place
was effectually destroyed, along with a large quantity of ammunition.
But no sooner had the soldiers finished the work, and begun to prepare
for their return, than they discovered that a large force of the enemy
was assembling to cut off their retreat.
No time for thought after that! At least six thousand of the foe,
having heard of the expedition, had crept down through the thick bush
from the direction of Hasheen, thirsting for vengeance. Two miles on
the Suakim side of Handoub they formed a line and opened fire on the
leading cavalry scouts.
Seeing that the Arabs were in such force, Captain Apthorp at once made
for their flank, in the direction of the sea-coast. At full speed, with
horses fatigued by a fifteen miles' journey, they had to ride for life.
It was neck or nothing now! The Egyptian cavalry, under Captain
Gregorie, and accompanied by Captain Stopford of the Grenadier Guards
and other officers, followed closely.
As they went along at racing speed, with more than a dozen miles of
wilderness to traverse, and death behind them, Private King of the
Hussars fell from his horse wounded. Captain Gregorie came up with him,
stopped, and took the wounded man up behind him. It was a generous but
desperate act, for what could be expected of a double-weighted horse in
such a region and with such a race before it?
For about half a mile he carried the wounded trooper, who then swooned
and fell off, dragging the captain along with him, the freed horse
rejoining its troop, while the Arabs came yelling on not a hundred and
fifty yards behind.
There would have been but little chance for Captain Gregorie at that
terrible crisis if self-denying courage equal to his own had not dwelt
in the breast of Private Baker of the Hussars. Seeing what had
occurred, this hero coolly rode back, took the captain up behind him,
(see frontispiece,) and, regaining his troop, enabled the latter to
capture and remount his own steed. Of course poor King--whether dead or
alive they could not tell--had to be left to his fate.
Heroism would seem to feed upon itself and multiply, for this same
Private Baker, soon afterwards, saw two more troopers, and shouted to a
comrade to turn back with him to their rescue. The comrade, however,
did not see his way to do so. Perchance he did not hear! Anyhow he
galloped on, but Captain Gregorie hearing the summons, at once answered
it, turned, and galloped back with Baker.
They were only just in time to take up and rescue the two men. At the
same time Captain Stopford performed a similar gallant act in rescuing a
dismounted trooper.
It is deeds of self-sacrifice and heroism such as these--not the
storming of a breach, or the fighting against overwhelming odds--that
bring out the noblest qualities of our soldiers, and arouse the
admiration of mankind!
The race for life was so close run that when the force at last reached
the sea-shore it was little more than sixty yards in advance of the foe,
and so exhausted were the horses that eight of them fell, and their
riders were captured--four being Englishmen and four Egyptians. It is
right to add that one of the Egyptians also displayed conspicuous
courage in rescuing a comrade.
While these stirring incidents were taking place on the plain, Miles and
some of his comrades were seated on the roof of the redoubt, looking out
anxiously for the return of the cavalry. At last, in the afternoon, a
cloud of dust was seen on the horizon, and the officers who had glasses
could soon make out that the men appeared to be racing towards the town
at full speed, while the enemy, on camels and horses, and on foot, were
racing down to the sea to cut off their retreat. No sooner was this
understood than our men rose with an uncontrollable burst, seized their
rifles, flung on ammunition-belts, and rushed out to the rescue,
regardless for the moment of the officers shouting to them to come back.
The news spread like wildfire, and the men ran out just as they were--
some in white jackets, some in red, others in blue; many in their
shirts, with their sleeves rolled up; cavalry, artillery, marines,
infantry--all going helter-skelter towards the enemy. Fortunately they
saw from the ships what was going on, and quickly got their guns to
bear, so that the moment our men had escaped clear of the enemy they
opened fire. But for this more men would certainly have been lost, for
the overtaxed horses were beginning to give in and lose ground. Had
they been a few minutes later in reaching the sea, it is probable that
not a man of that force would have returned to Suakim.
As it was, the men came in pale and terribly fatigued. The horses could
scarcely walk, and two of them died on the following day.
Note.--Since the foregoing was written, we have learned, with profound
regret, that the gallant Captain Gregorie was killed by his horse
falling with him in 1886.