Under Fire
AN hour later Lieutenant Chigi Riefi, having completed his watch on
deck, returned to his cabin. Both lads sprang to their feet in
anticipation as the door opened, and the astonishment of the English
youths and the young Italian officer was mutual.
The lieutenant began to pour out a series of rapid questions. Hugh,
on his part, with his limited knowledge of Italian, was unable to
follow his questioner, whose perplexity increased when he found that
he had two foreigners in possession of his cabin.
But by degrees he calmed down, and, when in broken words Hugh
explained why they were waiting there, the lieutenant told the lads
that a serious mistake had occurred--far more awkward than it
appeared to be at first sight.
"There is no Signor Reeves on board this ship," said Riefi. "It is
against strict orders for any civilians, especially foreigners, to be
on board. You must be brought before the captain at once. But do not
be alarmed on that score; we can see that a real mistake has been
made. Unfortunately, you must come with us to Tripoli. No doubt the
Commander-in-Chief will have you sent back by the first available
ship."
"But our friends--they will be in a terrible fright!"
The Italian shrugged his shoulders.
"_Corpo di Baccho!_" he exclaimed; "there will be many terrible
frights before this affair is over. But stay here; I must inform the
captain."
"We're in a hole," remarked Hugh dolefully, when the two chums found
themselves once more alone.
"Never mind, Rags! We're here, and all the moaning in the world won't
alter the case. Perhaps they will send a wireless message."
"I won't mind so much if they do. In fact, I would rather enjoy the
fun. What will the other fellows say when they hear we've been to a
real war--none of your public-school field days? Besides, Mr. Reeves
will be there to give an eye to us."
"I'm afraid Mr. Reeves will have other things to attend to," replied
Gerald. "But here they come, so stand by for a good wigging."
The lieutenant returned, accompanied by the captain of the ship and
an army officer; but, greatly to the lads' relief, the Italian
officials treated them with every consideration. To their
disappointment, however, the boys were informed that the _Victor
Stroggia_ was not fitted with "wireless"; but directly she came
within signalling distance of any of her consorts thus provided, the
news of their presence would be sent for transmission to Naples.
"You may go on deck if you wish," continued the captain, speaking
slowly and distinctly, so that Hugh could follow him. "We will
provide you with meals, and Lieutenant Riefi is willing for you to
sleep on the floor of his cabin. But don't, for your own sakes, get
into mischief."
Hugh thanked the captain on behalf of Gerald and himself, and when
the officers had withdrawn, the lads lost no time in availing
themselves of the permission to go on deck.
It was now nearly sunset. Away on the port quarter could be discerned
the rugged outlines of the mountainous Italian peninsula. Astern, the
island of Capri was a good ten miles off, while a thin column of
smoke, standing out clearly against the bright sky, marked the
position of the smouldering volcano of Vesuvius. Quite three miles
ahead, four transports were ploughing steadily along, their funnels
belching out clouds of flame-tinged vapour; while two more ships
followed the _Victor Stroggia_ at about the same distance astern.
Up to the present, being in safe waters, there had been no fear of
interruption from the Turkish torpedo vessels which, according to
Italian reports, had left the Golden Horn. Nevertheless, had a daring
Turkish commander made a raid upon the struggling and unescorted
transports, the result would have been disastrous to the Italian
arms.
At night, however, precautions were taken against attack. The
transports steamed with screened lights, silence was strictly
enjoined, and the troops were forbidden to smoke. But nothing
untoward happened, and when the two lads arose from their comfortable
bed on the floor, and looked through the now open scuttle, they saw
that they were still within sight of land--the island of Sicily.
Here was the transports' rendezvous, and under a powerful escort of
battleships the fleet headed for the African shore; and just after
sunrise on the following morning the lads had their first glimpse of
the glaring white houses and minarets of Tripoli.
Suddenly a burst of cheering came from one of the transports. The
shout was taken up by the other vessels, till the air re-echoed to
the tumultuous roar. Tripoli had been bombarded. The powerful
ordnance of the modern battleships of the Italians had been let loose
against the crumbling brickwork and mud walls of the antiquated
defences. A glorious victory! Adowa was avenged!
Already the town of Tripoli was in the hands of the victorious
sailors and marines. The Italian tricolour floated over the forts,
while several of the timorous inhabitants did not hesitate to display
the red, white, and green flag from the flat roofs of their
closely-barricaded dwellings.
"Mr. Reeves will be too late after all," remarked Gerald.
"It seems like it. However, I think the troops are beginning to
disembark. I wish they would let us go ashore."
But no: to the lads' entreaties the Italian captain gave a polite yet
firm refusal. No foreigners, other than accredited war
correspondents, were allowed to land, pending definite orders from
General Caneva, the Commander-in-Chief.
Four days passed. The transport, denuded of troops, still lay in the
roadstead. Occasionally a few shots were fired by the Arabs and
Turks, who had retreated to an oasis on the fringe of the desert, to
which the Italian troops would reply by frantic volleys. But most of
the time was spent by the invaders in throwing up earthworks and
erecting wire entanglements; for, in spite of their numbers, the
Italians did not treat their fierce and swift-moving foes with a
contempt that other civilized nations have had to pay dearly for
under similar circumstances.
Meanwhile, the lads had contrived to send a message to Hugh's parents
at Naples, and, having fulfilled their obligations as best they
could, they settled themselves wholeheartedly to making the best of
their novel experience.
On the morning of the fifth day they were called from the cabin,
where they had been temporarily installed, and to their delight found
that Mr. Reeves was awaiting them on the deck.
"You're a fine pair of rascals," he exclaimed; "causing your people
no end of anxiety!" The war correspondent had heard the particulars
of their adventure almost as soon as the _Victor Strozzi_ reached
Tripoli. The news of how two English lads had evaded the
Commander-in-Chief's express orders had spread through the fleet, the
transports, and the army; and Arthur Reeves heard of it from a fellow
correspondent directly he set foot ashore.
"The dad knows all about it by now," replied Hugh; "so he won't
mind."
"He'll be glad to see you back," said Mr. Reeves grimly. "You are to
return by the _Aleppo_. She sails for Brindisi the day after
to-morrow."
"Hard lines!" ejaculated Hugh. "But since we've one clear day,
couldn't you take us ashore? There's not much doing at present--I
mean, you're not very busy, are you?"
"Not more than usual," replied Mr. Reeves meaningly. "However, if you
promise not to get into mischief, I'll see what can be done."
In less than half an hour the war correspondent returned with the
welcome news that the lads could go ashore as soon as they were able,
with the proviso that they were to be under Mr. Reeves's direct
supervision, and were not to approach within one kilometre of the
firing line.
"That's fair and reasonable, you must understand," concluded their
newly-appointed guardian. "The Italian officials are trusting you,
and if anything goes wrong I must be responsible; so remember! Boys
will be boys, I know; but don't betray the confidence that is placed
in you."
Hugh and Gerald gave the required promise. A boat was lying at the
gangway of the _Victor Stroggia_, and into this the three Englishmen
stepped. As the boat shot under the stern of the ship, Mr. Reeves
pointed to a small craft of about twenty tons, painted black, with
felucca rig.
"That's the _Victor Strozzi_," he announced. "Not much resemblance
between the two vessels, eh?"
"She's rather small to make such a long voyage."
"But perfectly seaworthy. She was as lively as a top. My bones
haven't ceased to ache yet."
On landing, they were stopped by a sentry, who demanded the
Englishman's permit. This was immediately produced. The man looked at
it as if he understood, and returned the document.
"When I landed just after sunrise this morning I found that I had
left my permit on board," said Mr. Reeves. "As I did not want to
return for it, I gave the sentry the first piece of paper I came
across in my pocket. That passed me all right; but what do you think
it was?"
"An hotel bill?"
"Good shot, but not quite right. A receipted account for a hundred
cigars!"
"There's not much damage done!" remarked Gerald.
"Disappointed, eh? It's a good job there isn't, or the natives
wouldn't take things so calmly. Look at that benevolent old chap!"
Mr. Reeves pointed to a tall Arab with an almost Hebraic cast of
features, who, swathed in white from head to foot, was calmly sitting
on an empty ammunition case and eating dates.
"He would be a nasty customer if rubbed up the wrong way; but the
Italians have had the good sense and taste to respect the Moslem
religion. Now observe that fellow, as docile as a cat in spite of his
looks."
The second native was of a totally different type from the first. He
was tall, lithe, and long-limbed, with negro features and a dark
skin that contrasted vividly with the almost olive complexion of
the other.
"He's an Arab from the desert, closely related to the Baggaras, who
played the dickens with our troops when they broke the square at
Tamai and El Teb. It's a marvel to me how the Arabs knuckle under so
calmly. Frankly, I don't like the look of things, but it's not my
place to offer advice."
Along the almost deserted streets stepped the war correspondent and
his youthful companions. Every now and again a stretcher party would
be met, one with their burden lying motionless and still, another
with a soldier groaning and cursing in his agony: while from the
distant desert came the rattle of musketry, punctuated by the deeper
reports of the light field guns.
"Here we stop," exclaimed Mr. Reeves, as they gained a slight rise in
the mimosa-studded sand. "You can see the firing line fairly
distinctly, and we are less than a quarter of a mile from the
supports. Take my glasses, Hugh, and you will bring the men within a
few yards of you."
Hugh Frazer looked long and earnestly. He saw war almost face to
face--merely a fringe of men firing from behind trenches, with
smokeless powder, at an unseen foe.
"Is that all?" he asked disappointedly.
"Quite enough for you to see, Hugh," replied Mr. Reeves. "The other
side of the picture is fortunately not visible."
"How about it, Rags?" exclaimed Gerald. "When are you going to give
me a chance with those glasses?"
"Here you are, then." Hugh handed his chum the binoculars, and the
next moment cried excitedly: "Look, Mr. Reeves, they've caught an
Arab!"
Trudging across the sand came three Italian infantrymen. At a
distance they looked very similar to English "Tommies" in their
greenish-grey uniforms and tropical helmets; but on coming closer
their rope-soled shoes, and gaiters, and rifles with long sword
bayonets made the resemblance less apparent. Between two of the men
walked a white-robed Arab, his hands tied behind his back, and his
head held defiantly erect. The third soldier marched three paces in
the rear.
This group formed but part of a long, straggling procession that
seemed to increase in numbers rather than diminish, for men were
falling fast, in spite of their shelter trenches.
"What are they going to do with that prisoner?" asked Gerald.
"Take him into the town and lock him up, I suppose," replied Mr.
Reeves.
"There's another, and---- Oh!" Hugh's words broke into an exclamation
of surprise, and he pointed excitedly in the direction of a thick
clump of palms less than a quarter of a mile to the right.
"A flank attack," replied Mr. Reeves calmly, although he realized
that they were in a very awkward predicament; for out of the oasis
poured a swarm of Arabs, mounted and on foot, racing at headlong
speed upon the Italian rearguard. "Come along; we must place a safe
distance between us and those fellows," he continued. "Make for that
hollow. Don't show yourselves more than you can help."
"Is there any danger?" asked Gerald. The usual smile had left his
face.
"Mistakes might happen. Those Arabs won't stop to question us, I
fancy. Now, lie down."
A rapid glance in the direction of the town showed the war
correspondent that all retreat was cut off. Even from the houses on
the outskirts a ragged musketry fire was opened upon the totally
unprepared Italians.
Like a whirlwind the Arabs fell upon the stretcher bearers.
Two-handed swords and keen, broad-bladed spears completed the work
that bullets had begun. Here and there the entrapped Italians,
standing in little knots shoulder to shoulder over their helpless
charges, fired rapidly upon their treacherous attackers; but,
overborne by weight of numbers, they were literally cut to pieces.
Then, having cut the way for a flank attack, the Arabs resumed their
rifle fire upon the firing line of the Italians.
Slowly and surely the fierce sons of the Prophet were drawing nearer
to the shallow defile in which Mr. Reeves and his youthful charges
were lying.
The war correspondent was calm, but deathly pale. His thoughts were
not for himself, but for the two lads whose idle curiosity had led
them into the present danger. He could see by the massacre of the
ambulance men that no mercy was to be expected of the lawless
children of the desert. Barely twenty yards from where they lay grew
a clump of prickly mimosa. The scrub might conceal two persons.
"Be quick, lads!" said the correspondent sternly. "Crawl to that bush
and hide."
"And you?" asked Gerald.
"Never mind me; do as you're told. I can look after myself. Obey
instantly!" There was such a menacing ring in Arthur Reeves's voice
that the lads could not but do as they were ordered. Unseen they
gained the scanty place of concealment, and, torn by the sharp
spikes, contrived to crawl into shelter.
"It's a bare chance for the boys," muttered the Englishman, as he
drew his Mauser pistol from its holster. "I'll shout to those
fellows, but I'm afraid it won't be much use.... I hope my notebook
will be found and sent home when this business is over."
Then, remembering that his chance would be slightly improved if he
appeared to be weaponless, he thrust the pistol into the pocket of
his coat, set his jaw tightly, and waited.
Already the Arabs were within a hundred yards. Their impetuous rush
had been checked by the fire of the rear rank of the Italians and by
the shrapnel fire from the guns of the fleet; nevertheless they came
on dauntlessly, in the firm belief that Paradise would be their
reward could they but slay an infidel ere they kissed the burning
sand.
Suddenly Reeves saw a faint gleam of hope. Coming towards the wadi
were an officer and three soldiers. By their red tarbooshes the
correspondent knew them to be Turks. Evidently they had been
prisoners, but had taken advantage of the confusion to slip away from
their captors, and were making their way towards the oasis where the
remnants of the Turkish garrison had taken refuge.
Springing from the shelter of the hollow, Reeves ran straight for the
advancing Turks. A spluttering volley was aimed at him, till,
realizing, in spite of their fanatical hatred of the Kafir, that
there was a possibility of harming their fellow Moslems, the Arabs
ceased to fire.
As for the Turks, being unarmed and seeing a Giaour rushing at them,
they hesitated; but when they found that he was alone, and apparently
unarmed, they faced the fugitive.
"Effendi, Effendi, I am English!" exclaimed Reeves breathlessly.
"An Englishman is a true friend of the Ottoman," replied the Turkish
officer. "By the beard of the Prophet, I will befriend thee."
But the Turk had no easy task. Placing the correspondent between his
men, he advanced, and shouted to the maddened Arabs to stay their
hands. For a moment it seemed as if the fanatics were beyond control.
Some swept past the officer and dashed at the hated infidel.
Spearheads gleamed in the Sunlight; rifle barrels were pointed full
at the Englishman's head, although the Turkish soldiers loyally
obeyed their superior's orders, and attempted to interpose their
bodies between the menacing weapons and their intended victim. Yet
the Arabs hesitated. They failed to understand the meaning of the
Turkish officer's solicitude. He spoke again, with vehemence and
authority. The tension was relaxed.
The Arabs rushed off to find fresh victims, and for the time being
Arthur Reeves was safe.
"Effendi, if you would break bread again you must come with us," said
the officer. "This day the sons of the Prophet have tasted the fruits
of victory. The soldiers of Italy have bit the dust. Ere night not
one will be left upon the shores of Tripoli. But fear not. I swear by
the Koran that your life will be safe."
The correspondent knit his brows in perplexity.
"Do not hesitate," continued the Turk earnestly. "Over yonder you
will be safe, for in the oasis you will find Skilanda Bey, whose love
for England passes understanding. To-morrow, or perchance the next
day, you will be free to cross the sea, if so be one vessel of the
Giaours be left in the roadstead."
"But I am not alone," replied Mr. Reeves. "I have two young
comrades----"
"Italians?"
"No, English."
"Then let them also come and fear not. Quickly, lest harm befall
them!" for a shell from one of the battleships had exploded barely a
hundred yards from the spot where the Turks were standing.
"Hugh, come along," shouted Mr. Reeves. "Come along, both of you."
Without hesitation, though terribly frightened, the lads obeyed. From
their place of concealment they had seen everything that had
occurred, and even now were in doubt as to the intentions of their
companion's supposed captors.
"We're in a mess, lads," remarked Mr. Reeves calmly, as the two boys,
with their faces, hands, and clothing torn by the sharp spikes of the
mimosa, came up to where he was standing. "We are practically
prisoners of war. Goodness only knows what's happened to the Italian
troops. They are still firing, I hear, but the sound seems to be
dying away."
"Where are we being taken to?"
"To the oasis. The remnants of the Turkish garrison are there. I
don't think we are in danger, although the situation is extremely
awkward."
Escorted by the Ottoman soldiers, Mr. Reeves and his companions
trudged across the hot sand, the lads shudderingly averting their
faces as they passed the numerous motionless bodies of the
slaughtered Italian soldiers. They were beginning to learn something
of the dark side of war.
And now from the direction of the town the sound of firing began to
increase. The Italian infantry were moving to the support of their
comrades on the fringe of the desert; sullenly the Arabs gave way
before them, and began to stream back upon the oasis.
Unfortunately for the three English prisoners there was no sign of
Skilanda Bey and the remainder of the Turkish regiments. They had
taken up a position fully two miles away, and were pushing home a
counter-attack upon an Italian redoubt. This the Turkish officer
learnt from a wounded compatriot.
"My place is with my regiment, Effendi," said he to the
correspondent; "so I must leave you. But these three soldiers will
stand by you. There is nothing to fear."
The next instant the kindly Ottoman was gone, and Arthur Reeves, not
without misgivings, found himself and his charges in the midst of a
horde of Arabs, with only the possibility of three Turkish privates
saving them from indignity, perhaps death. Nevertheless, with the
object of his life's work before him, the correspondent kept his
glasses bearing upon the distant battlefield, keenly intent upon
striking and unique copy for the _London Intelligence_.
Suddenly a shell, fired at a high angle from one of the battleships,
burst fairly in the midst of a group of retreating Arabs, barely two
hundred yards from the edge of a cluster of palm trees. The men broke
into a run, leaving what looked like a smudge of dirty white garments
on the dazzling sand.
Then another missile, hissing overhead, plunged into the oasis. This
was quickly followed by a third. The Arabs lying under cover began to
give way.
"That's good!" muttered the correspondent. "If this goes on we can
make a dash for it. These fellows will pass well on our left."
Unfortunately another shell, falling on the flank of the now
demoralized fugitives, caused them to swerve to the right, and,
bursting through the scrub, they gained the oasis close to where
Reeves and his companions were standing.
No sooner did they catch a glimpse of the hated Kafirs than,
forgetting their panic, they surrounded the three Turkish soldiers
and their charges. Once more spears and rifles were raised
menacingly, while the Turks yelled their hardest in an endeavour to
fulfil their superior's orders.
Thrusting his compatriots aside, a tall, brown-featured Arab, with a
long black beard, grabbed one of the Turks by the shoulder.
"In the name of Allah the all-powerful, who are these infidels?" he
shouted.
"They are Inglees, under the protection of Bimbashi Ali," replied the
man. "These Inglees are indeed the friends of the Ottoman."
"Nevertheless they may not be the friends of the true sons of the
Prophet," replied the Arab, his dark eyes flashing. "Yet, since they
be of a different tribe from yonder Kafirs, I will give them life.
Seize and bear them hence."
In a moment Arthur Reeves was secured, his arms being bound behind
his back with a leather thong. He offered no resistance--since
resistance would have made matters worse; but in spite of this
passiveness his clothes were torn from his back by his captors in
their efforts to possess themselves of his watch, pistol, ammunition,
and other effects. Hugh and Gerald fared much the same, the latter's
watch being the cause of a tough struggle between a Baggara and a
Tunisian Arab. Eventually the Baggara got possession of a
badly-damaged timepiece, and the other man secured three pieces of a
broken chain.
"Make the best of it, lads," exclaimed the correspondent, as
cheerfully as he could. "They are not going to kill us."
"Silence, Kafir!" ordered the sheikh, dealing the Englishman a heavy
blow across the mouth. "Walk, and that quickly, lest you feel the
point of a knife betwixt your ribs."
Additionally secured by a camel rope, the three Englishmen began
their march into a long and terrible captivity.