The First Encounter
"There! Over there you can see a mass of horsemen, and I think there are
infantry just behind them," said Daglish, one of the officers forming
the patrol which had gone out in front of the two troops of Indian Horse
sent out to reconnoitre. When Geoff pulled up his Arab, Sultan, he found
close beside him the young officer who had just spoken, standing with
his reins hooked over one arm, his feet wide apart and sunk almost to
the ankles in the soft sand of the desert, and his glasses glued to his
eyes, as he surveyed the ground to his left front, adjacent to the River
Shatt-el-Arab.
"Hang it!" Geoff heard him say as he too dropped from his saddle and let
his reins fall on Sultan's neck--for Sultan had been trained by the
knowing and experienced Joe Douglas to stand as still and as steady as a
rock without a rider, so long as his reins were left in that position.
"Hang it, Keith! there's a sort of a mist out there, and while just a
second ago I could have sworn that there were several hundred horsemen,
either Turkish or Arab, there is now nothing but shimmering water and
palm-trees and houses, and a devil of a big village."
Daglish, a young, spirited, and handsome cavalry officer, dropped his
glasses and let them dangle about his neck, while he turned impatiently
towards Geoff.
"See!" he cried, stretching his hand out. "Look for yourself, Keith;
there's the village yonder and hundreds of palm-trees round it; but it
can't have sprung up in a moment, and can't have taken the place of
those horsemen. What's it mean?"
The line the officers' patrol had taken had brought them to a low
elevation--for though the estuary of the Tigris and the Euphrates is
more or less flat, and the greater part of it but desert country, the
ground rises here and there almost imperceptibly into hard gravel
patches, and it was on the summit of one of these that the patrol had
halted, and from which they had first sighted what was taken to be enemy
horsemen, and which now, to the amazement of the officer, had developed
into merely a native village. Pulling out his glasses, Geoff first of
all surveyed the scene without their aid, and noticed that from the
slight elevation to which they had attained he was able to look down
upon the course of the river as it ran through a broad belt of green
palm-trees. He could see stretches of the water flashing here and there
under the brilliant rays of the sun. Elsewhere peeps of it only were
obtainable, while in other parts the brilliant reflection from its
surface shot through a thousand apertures between the trunks of the
palms, the light almost dazzling him as it reached him. It was to a
point, perhaps more than a mile away, and just outside the closest belt
of palm-trees, that Daglish was pointing, and as Geoff looked in that
direction he too saw a native village embowered in palms, its white
houses gleaming faintly across the yellow stretches of desert.
"Well?" Daglish asked him impatiently.
Geoff smiled.
"Just a mirage," he told his companion. "They are funny things till you
get used to them, and you have to come and live in this country for
quite a while often before you get a chance. Before now I've seen a
whole Turkish city rise up before me out of the desert, looking
wonderfully realistic, with people moving about, and horses, and asses,
and dogs in all directions. Then I've gone on a little way, or gone
back, and the whole scene has vanished. That's a mirage. Some trick of
the sun's rays playing upon the atmosphere spread out over the desert.
How it's brought about beats me altogether; but it's real enough when
one sees it, and equally elusive when one's moved from one's position.
Let's walk our horses across here to the left; we needn't trouble to go
downhill at all, for if you have seen the enemy horsemen out there in
the open, they will most distinctly have seen you up here on this little
bit of an eminence."
Leading their horses, they strode off some distance to their left,
sinking ankle-deep into the sand at almost every stride. There were
three of them by now, for Harmer, another of the Indian cavalry
officers--the one who had come back to make his report--had joined them;
and as they went, each one cast glances over his left shoulder, till of
a sudden Daglish gave a cry of delight.
"I was beginning to doubt you, Keith," he said with energy; "but now, by
James! you are right. That must have been a mirage, though I have never
seen one before in all my life. The native village has gone completely;
and look at those horsemen!"
They came to an abrupt halt, the three wheeling round at once and
raising their glasses.
"Eh! What do you make of 'em?" Daglish said, when a minute had passed
during which Geoff focused the distant horsemen carefully and watched
them critically. "Turks, eh? Or Arabs?"
"A mixed force," Geoff told him promptly. "Arab horsemen, perhaps two or
three hundred strong, and Turkish infantry behind them; there are no
guns with them, so I take it that it's simply a reconnoitring force, or
maybe it's a garrison, from some point lower down the river, retiring
before us."
"Then the sooner we send back to our fellows the better," cried Daglish.
"There's open ground before us, and the two troops could operate so as
to drive in a blow at those fellows."
Pulling his notebook from his pocket he wrote a few hurried lines, and,
having folded the "chit" up, he addressed it to his commanding officer.
"Take it back, Harmer," he ordered. "You can tell them that Keith and I
will go on a little and make out those fellows a trifle more clearly."
A minute later the third of the officers was in his saddle and galloping
back towards their comrades, whom they had left some distance away,
halting at the bottom of this long sloping eminence. Then Geoff and
Daglish climbed into their saddles and urged their horses forward, Geoff
looking critically at the mount upon which his companion was riding.
"Better go easily, Daglish," he told him, "for that little horse of
yours doesn't look as though he was fast, and I can tell you many of
those Arab horsemen are superbly mounted. We can go on a little way, of
course, and then, if it's the same to you, I'll push on still closer,
for there's not a horse yonder that can even look at Sultan."
It was perhaps five minutes later when the two drew rein, for even
though Daglish was full of energy and enthusiasm, and indeed was a
brilliant cavalry officer, yet he was not devoid entirely of discretion.
Though he was itching with eagerness to get to grips with the enemy, and
to come to close quarters, he could not fail to realize the weight of
the warning which Geoff had given him; nor, having seen that little
exhibition which Sultan and his master had given them so close to the
place of disembarkation, could he doubt that there were few who could
come up to the magnificent Arab Geoff was riding.
"All right!" he told Geoff, a little reluctantly, as he pulled in his
horse. "I'll stay here and keep my glasses on them, while you go on a
little. Now, don't be reckless; for recollect you are of some value to
the expedition, seeing that you speak the lingo."
Shaking his reins, Geoff set Sultan in motion, while Daglish watched him
for a while as he cantered towards the enemy; then he threw up his
glasses, and, fixing them upon the Arab horsemen, watched their waving
lines, the chiefs who sat their horses in front of them, and one man in
particular, who cantered slowly along their front--his white cloak
thrown back, his dusky arm bare, the weapons he was carrying distinctly
visible. It was fascinating to watch that gallant horseman, for a fine
sight this Arab made. He pulled in his horse after a while in front of
his men, and from the movements of his head it seemed as if he must be
haranguing them; then of a sudden he stood in his stirrups and flung the
pistol he was carrying high in the air, while an instant later there
rolled musically across the desert the sound of shouting--a sound
unfamiliar to Daglish's ears.
"Allah!" he heard; "Allah!" That weird, majestic, inspiring call of the
Arab. It made the young officer almost twitch; made him admire those
horsemen even more, and made him start violently when a second later he
saw through his glasses that self-same chief swing his horse round,
shield his eyes with one hand as he stared in Geoff's direction, and
then set his horse going at a mad pace which promised to bring him
rapidly up to him. Almost at the same instant the Turkish infantry--a
mere handful of men--who had been hidden behind the horsemen almost
completely, debouched into the open at their left, and at once the sharp
rattle of rifle-fire came echoing across the desert. As for Geoff, he
heard the sounds and saw that horseman. Little puffs of sand began to
rise up all round him, while now and again something buzzed past his
head, humming its way on into the distance.
"Near enough," he told himself coolly, pulling Sultan up, while he felt
for his glasses; then, dropping his reins, he focused the enemy again,
and took very careful stock of them. "Doubt if there are three hundred
horsemen there," he thought; "two hundred is more like their number, and
a mere handful of Turkish infantry I should say, though having infantry
with them points to the fact that they are a garrison retiring up river.
And what's that chief mean by riding out like that in front of all his
people? Anyway, he's now between the infantry and me, and that will put
a stop to those bullets."
If he could, Daglish would have shouted to his companion so far ahead,
and for a while he was consumed with the fear that Geoff had failed to
notice that single horseman, that magnificently mounted chief, who came
galloping across the desert. Then he swung himself into the saddle, and,
gripping his reins, sat motionless, watching the figure of his comrade.
Ah! Geoff was beginning to move a little. He had dropped his glasses,
and, peering at him through his own, Daglish saw that he had opened the
pouch containing his revolver.
"Confound the chap!" he exclaimed. "Does he mean to stay out there and
have a single-handed encounter with that beggar? If I'd have thought
that possible I'd have sent the idiot back long ago."
Then he dropped his glasses again and sat spellbound, peering across the
desert, longing for Geoff's return, and yet hoping, in spite of himself,
that the young officer who had so recently joined them would stand his
ground, would face this Arab enemy, and would show right at the
commencement of this coming campaign that an Englishman was not to be
frightened easily.
"Steady does it!" Geoff was saying to himself as he watched the furious
approach of the Arab. "By the time he gets up to me his horse will be
winded, and he'll be considerably shaken; that will be my chance, and,
by George! I'll take it. A captive at this stage would be a tremendous
thing for the General; for once an Arab sees that the game is up, and
once he realizes that rewards are given for information, he will speak,
will speak the truth, indeed. That's one of the curious parts about
these Arabs--they've no fondness for the Turks, though many of them will
fight for them, seeing that we are heathen and the Turks are of the
'Faithful'; but, on the other hand, they are just as likely to turn
against the Sultan and help an invader. Ah! That's just a gentle
reminder to let me know that the beggar is armed, and quite eager to
kill me."
The horseman galloping furiously towards our hero was now within some
sixty yards of him: a picturesque figure, his turban and his flowing
robes blowing out in the breeze he made, his Arab horse and the gaudy
harness with which it was decorated making quite a remarkable
appearance. It was just then, when Geoff was able to clearly distinguish
the man's face, that the Arab's right arm was suddenly raised, a puff of
white smoke swept away from above the head of his galloping horse, and
something sang past Sultan's tail and kicked up a splash of sand beyond
him. Then a dull, deep report reached Geoff's ears, and caused Sultan to
bound sideways. Speaking to him, and pressing his knees into his flanks,
Geoff then set him in motion, and instead of galloping away towards
Daglish--who still watched the proceedings with bated breath--he set him
flying off at a tangent, a movement which caused the Arab to swing his
own horse round and come hurtling after him. Nor was he on the new
course more than a few seconds when, pulling another pistol from his
belt, he sent a second bullet in Geoff's direction.
"A little too close to be pleasant," thought our hero as he heard the
missile hum past his head, and saw the splash of sand it made beyond
him. "I'll let Sultan out a little, and increase the distance, so that,
if one of his bullets happens to strike us, no great damage will be
inflicted. That's doing it! That's making him writhe with anger! He's
grandly mounted, and I shouldn't wonder if he had the idea that there
was nothing he couldn't come up with; but Sultan knows better. Don't
we?"
He leaned forward in his saddle and patted his horse's neck, while he
glanced backward again at the pursuing Arab. That sudden spurt had taken
him some hundred yards in front of his enemy, and even at that distance
Geoff could see the chief brandishing his smoking weapon, and could hear
as he shouted curses at him. Then slowly, almost imperceptibly, he
circled from his course, till in a while he was heading almost direct
for the point where Daglish was waiting.
"Give him another two or three shots at the most," thought Geoff,
casting many glances over his shoulder. "That Arab fellow may have two
or three pistols with him--double-barrelled fellows--and if he's rich
and lucky it may be that he's got a revolver. But I'll wager my hat that
he ain't, or he'd have used it already."
Ping! There came another shot, very wide of the mark, for the rage into
which the Arab chief had worked himself, and the disappointment he was
suffering, had unsteadied him--that and his frantic gallop across the
desert. By now, too, his horse was blowing hard, and was slackening its
pace, a fact which Geoff noted clearly, and made allowance for by
holding Sultan in and curbing his paces. It was perhaps a minute later
when he swung Sultan round on his haunches and pulled him in abruptly,
the sudden halt causing the Arab to decrease the distance between them
rapidly and to come rushing towards them.
"Now shall Allah reward me!" the chief bellowed, his eyes gleaming, his
teeth set, and his lips parted in a snarl of triumph and anger.
Thrusting his empty pistol back into his belt, he dived for his curved
scimitar, which was dangling beside him, and, getting his horse well in
hand at the same moment, sped onwards without halting. It was then that
Geoff revealed his own weapon, and, taking careful aim, pressed the
trigger. An instant later the horse which the chief was riding reared up
on its hind legs, whinnying loudly, and there for a moment it stood,
pawing the air and snorting; then it collapsed of a sudden, as if the
strength which had permitted it to fly so rapidly across the desert had
been suddenly torn from it, and, crumpling up, fell back, bearing its
rider with it.
"Drop your scimitar," shouted Geoff, covering the fallen chief as he
staggered from his saddle and got to his feet. "Now throw your pistols
on one side. Good! You'll run in front of me as fast as you can, without
looking to either side or behind you; if you fail in this, I have still
another bullet to spare for you."
Amazement was written on the face of the chief--amazement which was far
greater for the moment than his wrath and his disappointment at being
made a prisoner. For wrath does not last for long when a man has met
with a fair opponent and has been fairly worsted. Moreover, whatever
your Arab may be--fierce revengeful, treacherous, a false friend, if you
will have it--he is yet a philosopher, a child of the desert, one who
takes things as they come, and makes the best of them.
"By Allah," he grunted, "but this is a strange thing that has happened.
A while ago and I thought that you--a white man, one of the race of
unbelievers--were surely in my hands, were surely killed or captive; but
a while ago, had a man dared to tell me that I, Suliman, should fall
before one of the invaders, and this at the very first encounter, I
would have slain him; while, had one dared to say that this fine Arab I
ride could meet his match anywhere in the desert, I would have had him
stripped and beaten. But now, surely this is fate. Allah is great! and
if this is his reward, then why should I be wroth with it? My master, I
obey."
Quite cheerfully he cast his empty weapons aside and threw his scimitar
to a distance; then, with long active strides he set off in the
direction that Geoff had indicated, casting not a single glance back at
his comrades, content as it were with his fate, and careless of what was
before him--a true philosopher indeed, a true child of the desert.
Perhaps ten minutes later they came up with Daglish, finding that young
officer amazed, delighted beyond words, hugging himself with enjoyment.
"My word!" he exclaimed as Geoff rode up beside him; "of all the cheek,
of all the dare-devils I ever saw. But what the devil do you mean by
it?"
He quite exploded as he recollected the fears which had assailed him;
indeed, as he sat there, a witness of the moving scene which was taking
place before him, he had had many and many a twinge of conscience, and
had recollected that Keith was an officer whose loss would reflect on
the head of any of his brothers responsible for it. "Why hadn't he told
him to halt some hundred yards ahead? Why had he allowed him to go off
on such a fool's errand? What the devil was the fellow doing? He'd be
killed if he didn't look out, for look at all those splashes of sand
about him, and listen to the rifles of those Turkish infantry,
and--and----Good Heavens! He was going to wait for that Arab chap! He
was going to----Bravo! Bravo, Keith!--took his fire without
flinching--and now he is giving him a run for his money. There goes
another shot, and can't have missed Keith by more than a trifle. Dash
the fellow! He'll get killed yet, and here am I unable to help him."
Imagine the shout of delight the enthusiastic Daglish indulged in when
he saw that last manoeuvre of Geoff's, and watched as the Arab's horse
reared and then crumpled up beneath him. Why, he had never been so
excited in all his life, and now watched with staring eyes as the Arab
clambered to his feet and then set off at a fast trot towards the
eminence whereon he was standing. But that was a few minutes
ago--minutes of huge relief to Daglish, minutes during which he could
congratulate himself on a fortunate escape from something approaching a
disaster, and upon a tale which would make excellent telling; and then,
as a sharp order from Geoff brought the Arab to a standstill, and that
young officer halted like a culprit before him, the anger of this other
officer--who was senior to Geoff--burst out as he recollected the
qualms which had assailed him.
"My word," he bellowed, "what the dickens do you mean by it? Isn't it
enough to draw fire from those Turkish infantry, and to stand quite
still, like an idiot, to make their shooting more perfect? Isn't it
enough to make a fellow swear to see an officer chucking his life away
out there in the desert? And, by James, Keith," he cried, as he
stretched out a hand and gripped Geoff's, "but it was fine! I wish to
goodness I'd been in it; and to think you've got a captive at this early
stage. Here, what's your name? Who are you? And where do you come from?"
The Arab, tall, calm, almost austere, handsome and active, stood erect
before the two young officers, not a shadow on his face, not a look of
animosity about him; he even smiled, and then addressed himself to our
hero.
"Doubtless it is one of your chiefs, my master," he said, looking across
at Daglish; "doubtless, too, he is both angry and overjoyed at
something. Maybe you are his brother, and in that case, seeing that
Allah has spared you, and it is I who am a captive, why, I joy with him
in his delight and pleasure. My master, if it is ill to be taken by an
enemy, it is still an honour and a fine thing to be taken by one who is
doubtless of value to his own people--a man respected and looked up to."
"Can't make a word out," exclaimed Daglish, impatiently casting anxious
glances over his shoulder and then away towards the enemy. "But, as I
said, Keith, you've got a captive, and if you handle him rightly you may
make him jolly useful. Now, I'll stay here and keep my eye on those
beggars, while you trot this fellow back towards our comrades."
A sharp order from Geoff set the Arab in motion again, and presently,
steering a course towards the two troops of horse which could now be
seen advancing towards them, they halted a few yards before them--nor is
it to be wondered at that a torrent of questions was immediately poured
out in Geoff's direction.
"What's this? Who's this fellow?--a fine-looking beggar, a chief I
should say. How did you get hold of him? Where's he come from? And
what's the latest about this enemy force that Harmer has reported?"
As quickly as possible Geoff told his tale; merely mentioning that he
and Daglish had advanced towards the enemy, and that by a fortunate
chance they had managed to capture this chief, who had ventured out to
meet them.
"I think, if you'll allow me, sir, I may be able to get some important
information from him," he told the Officer in Command. "Of course he was
very angry, in fact furious, at being captured, but, like a true
follower of the Prophet, he is a born philosopher, and is already quite
reconciled to his fate. I have told him already that no harm will come
to him; and if you will allow me to make promises of good treatment and
of reward, I think he'll tell us as much as he knows of the Turks and
their movements."
"Then fire ahead! The horses have come along at a smartish pace and will
do with a breather. I have already sent off strong advance- and
flanking-parties, so that we are not likely to be surprised,
particularly as Daglish is still out there in front watching the
enemy and can signal back to us. Now, Keith, get on with the
cross-examination. I think I may say that you may promise your captive a
handsome present of money if he will give us every scrap of
information."
Saluting with precision, Geoff dropped out of his saddle, and, leaving
Sultan to take care of himself, faced his captive. Then, handling him
with that care and tact which residence amongst the Arabs had taught
him, and in fact winning his confidence at once--for it was impossible
for the Arab chief to have suspicion of this British officer's good
intentions--Geoff very quickly gained from him information as to the
positions taken up by the Turks and Arabs in the immediate
neighbourhood, together with such news as the chief had of forces in
other directions.
"But, my master, it is mere rumour--this latter information that I have
given you," the chief told him. "I and my men have been posted down
beside the river, and know little of what is occurring elsewhere.
Doubtless there are Turkish troops here and there, and it may be that in
parts there are large forces of them, but between this and Basra they
are few. That is true, as Allah hears me!"
As a matter of precaution the chief was handed over to one of the sowars
(Indian troopers) as soon as Geoff had repeated to his Commanding
Officer what had been stated.
"Then I think we will make short work of those beggars in front of us,"
said the latter abruptly, as he swung himself into his saddle. "A brush
at this stage of the proceedings will liven the men up wonderfully, and
will raise the spirits of the Expeditionary Force from India--not that
their spirits can be called exactly low, or the men in any way
down-hearted."
Setting off at a trot, one of the troops rode to the left of the
eminence from which Geoff and his comrades had watched the enemy, while
the other took a course to the right and galloped off into the desert.
But an officer and a couple of sowars were left on the eminence itself,
from which point of vantage they could keep a close watch on the Arab
horsemen.
It was perhaps half an hour later that the two troops, separated till
then by quite a wide stretch of desert, and hidden entirely from one
another and from the enemy by that long, low eminence, converged upon
one another and rode out into the open. A careful advance near the bank
of the river, where the palms hid them, and the fact that the attention
of the Arab horsemen was fixed for the most part on the signallers and
their officer left on the eminence, had allowed one troop to get within
striking distance of the enemy. Then they suddenly debouched from the
trees, and, trotting out into the desert, formed up for a charge; almost
at the same moment a cloud of dust far away in the open showed them the
position of the second troop, which, riding faster, had got almost
beyond the position held by the Arabs. In fact, a rapid movement might
enclose the enemy between the two troops, and in any case this menace
from two points at once threw them into confusion; shouts were heard
from the Arabs, while at once loud reports burst from their ranks, all
manner of weapons being discharged at the Indian horsemen. To these was
added the sharp, clear-cut snap of modern rifles, with which the Turkish
infantry were armed. Then a trumpet blared in the distance, and that
cloud of dust suddenly grew bigger, grew bigger and wider, and stretched
out till it covered quite a large area. The troop close down by the
river, which had just emerged from the trees, cantered out now till six
feet of space separated the horsemen.
Then the pennons at the tips of the lances waved, a sharp order snapped
down the ranks, and in a trice the lances were lowered. That trumpet
blaring in the distance had set every horse in this other troop
curveting and prancing, and now, as a note came from their own
trumpeter, the horses were off, the men leaning low down in their
saddles, their eyes glued on the enemy, their knees gripping their
horses, and their lances pointed well out before them.
What a shout those Indian sowars gave! Their comrades coming from the
opposite direction answered with a shrill yell of triumph, and then,
like a flash, the two troops were launched against the enemy.
Converging as they came, till there were perhaps only some four or five
hundred yards between the flanks of each of the troops, the horsemen
plunged into the midst of the Arabs. Here and there they had left a
horse rolling on the sand behind them, and there was more than one
animal without a rider as they got close to the enemy; but nothing
stopped the Indians, neither the shouts nor the bullets of the Arabs.
With a crash they were in at them, thrusting right and left, riding them
down, riding over them, and then it was over. What was left of those
Arab horsemen scattered and fled in every direction, leaving the Indian
Horse conquerors.
[Illustration: "WHAT WAS LEFT OF THOSE ARAB HORSEMEN SCATTERED AND
FLED"]
As for Geoff, his fingers trembled as he pulled Sultan in and dropped
from his saddle.
"My word," exclaimed Daglish, offering him his cigarette case with a
hand which jerked and wobbled badly, "but that was something! If that's
war--the sort of war we're likely to have in Mesopotamia--then the more
of it we have the merrier. Come here, Keith! I want to know what yarn
you've been pitching to our Commander? You've been fibbing, eh? I asked
him as we were trotting along through the palm-trees what report you had
given. You said nothing about that flare-up with the Arab chief, about
the bullets you were idiot enough to wait for, and about the way you
captured him. My boy, there's a lively time coming!"