A Cutting-out Expedition
"What's that? Listen! I heard something!"
Geoff cocked his head up over the side of the cabin in which he and
Philip had been partaking of their evening meal, and turned his face
towards the River Euphrates, across the waste of ooze and mud and water
which separated their captured launch from it--a waste hidden by the
darkness, and yet illuminated ever so faintly by a crescent of the moon,
which was already floating above them, while stars peppered the sky in
every direction, and helped to make things visible. Across the waste of
water, dulled by the whisper of the evening breeze as it rustled through
the reeds and osiers, a sound had come to Geoff's ears, a sound which
caused him to enjoin silence upon all aboard the steam-launch. Then, as
he listened, there came to his ears, at first faintly only, but growing
steadily yet gradually louder, the plug, plug of the paddles of a river
steamer.
"The Turk who had the cheek to fire that shot at us!" exclaimed Philip.
"Listen to him! He's going up the river, and I dare say he's wondering
what's happened to his launch, and whether he'll find that rather nice
and comfortable little vessel waiting for him up-stream. Eh, Geoff?"
"Listen! The paddles are going slower, and it sounds to me as if the
steamer was going to pull up for the night. You must remember that the
Euphrates isn't the sort of river that one cares to steam up at any kind
of pace during the hours of darkness, for by all accounts it's stuffed
full of sand-banks and muddy islands, which are always changing,
'specially after rains and storms. There's a voice," Geoff went on;
"that's someone giving an order! And now the paddles have ceased
altogether."
"Plunk! There goes her anchor. She's come to a roost without a doubt!"
ejaculated Philip. "That's rummy, ain't it? Our Turkish friends will be
settling down for their evening meal--or whatever sort of thing they
have--within sound of us, and, I'll lay my hat, without suspecting that
their precious steam-launch is within easy reach of them."
Geoff stretched out a hand in the semi-darkness and gripped his chum by
the shoulder.
"Splendid!" he said.
"Eh?" asked the other, a little bewildered. "What's splendid? Having the
Turks so close to us? 'Not 'arf', as 'Tommy' is fond of saying. Why, we
shall have to lie as quiet as mice here, and the next thing you'll be
doing will be to order us to cease smoking, for fear the light of our
pipes should be seen aboard the steamer. Most inconsiderate of that
Turk, I call it! For he might at least have stopped down the river, or
gone a little higher, so that we might have passed a peaceful night, and
made ready for all sorts of things to-morrow. 'Splendid!' Hum! Sorry I
can't agree with you, my dear fellow."
If he could only have guessed what was in Geoff's mind at the moment,
and could have seen that young fellow quite clearly, Philip might easily
have given expression to quite different opinions. For, to be precise,
our young hero, dressed in the uniform of a Turkish officer, and with a
Turkish fez perched on his head, was as near the actual thing as could
well be imagined. In daylight, in the city of Bagdad, and, for that
matter, in any other city, he might very well have passed muster; while
the fact that he was able to speak the language fluently--as fluently as
any native--made his disguise all the better; and now, with some idea in
his head to which Philip was a stranger, there occurred to Geoff the
thought that the coming of this steamer to such close quarters presented
a splendid opportunity. He shook his chum savagely, so as to silence
him.
"You don't let a fellow finish!" he exclaimed. "But it's splendid,
really splendid, that that steamer should have dropped her anchor within
easy reach of us."
"And why, pray?" asked Philip, rather inclined to banter with his senior
officer.
"Why, being so near makes it all the easier for a fellow to get aboard
her."
"A--bo--ard her!"
Philip opened his mouth wide, and his eyes too, though that didn't help
him to see his chum any the better.
"Well--but--surely--you don't mean to----Well, I'm hanged!" he
exclaimed. "And--of course--of course it's splendid, as you say--a
splendid opportunity. But you'll never think of going alone, eh, Geoff?"
he asked, with a pleading note in his voice. "Supposing a Turkish
sentry caught hold of you? Supposing you got 'lagged' immediately you
were on board, what then? I----"
"You would be required aboard this launch to take command of the
expedition," Geoff told him curtly. "But let's be serious, Phil. We're
out to learn all we can of the Turks, and, as you know, it's been
reported that the enemy are gathering somewhere up the River Euphrates,
behind or in this long stretch of marsh land. We might push up the river
in the early morning and discover them. We might barge into the very
midst of them, and find ourselves surrounded, with no chance of getting
away and carrying our information to Head-quarters. But what we want to
know is known aboard that steamer. The officer in command is nearly sure
to be of superior rank, and in any case he must know where the Turks are
assembling."
"And so," argued Phil, as he bit at a cigarette, "and so, my boy, you've
designs on the steamer. 'Pon my word! I wish I was able to speak the
lingo. Languages are things I've always hated; but I can see what
advantages they give to a fellow, what fun they bring him,
and--ahem!--what chances of promotion. So you'll go aboard? Wish the
dickens I could come with you."
"I shall go aboard and find out the whereabouts of this officer."
"And then you'll listen to his conversation through the keyhole if need
be," said Philip, whose buoyant spirits always made him seize upon the
smallest opportunity of being facetious. "Keyhole, eh? Wonder if Turks
have 'em? Anyway, you'll contrive to find a spot from which you can
hear the old bounder; and then, of course, the business will be to make
him converse upon the subject upon which you are most interested. That's
a teaser, eh? How will you do it? Supposing he's immersed in an argument
about the war, and about the rights and wrongs of the Turks and the
Germans; or supposing he's only telling his under-officer--for I suppose
there is such an individual--all about his home life, his wife and his
children, his house and his garden. Supposing, in fact, he won't get on
to your line of argument, and won't babble about the Turks and their
concentration in the marshes."
Hum! It certainly was a teaser, and the situation as Philip drew it had
not occurred to Geoff before. That it was possible to reach the steamer
in the tiny dinghy carried aboard the launch, and to clamber unseen
aboard her, he did not doubt; that he might, by skill and cheek,
contrive thereafter to get within sight and sound of the Commander, he
thought was within the bounds of possibility; but to make that Commander
talk, to make him give the information which Geoff sought, was an
entirely different matter altogether.
"By George!" he exclaimed; "that would be awkward."
"It would," Philip told him in tones of irony. "You're aboard the
steamer, you've--not actually, but let us say metaphorically--sat down
in the cabin occupied by this old bounder, and then he won't talk, you
can't make him talk; he's glum, we'll say; he's agitated about the loss
of the steam-launch; he can't make up his mind what all that firing
meant, and where his twenty-odd soldiers and the two officers who
commanded them have got to. In fact, he's in the dickens of a stew, in a
beastly temper, smoking a cigar, and won't say 'nothink'."
"Oh, shut up!" Geoff told him angrily.
"Like the Turkish captain, in fact," Philip laughed. "But, seriously,
just as you said a moment ago, seriously, what's to be done? You know
the old adage: 'You can take a horse to the water, but no amount of
kicks or coaxing will make him drink'; well, this old Turk may be just
like that obstinate old horse. He's there, aboard his steamer, and
nothing will make him talk, not even----"
"Stop!" commanded Geoff abruptly. "'Nothing will make him talk,' you
say? Won't it? I mean to get information out of the old beggar--for I
presume he is old--but don't forget that neither of us have seen him
yet, so he may be young and active. All the same, I am going aboard now,
and, of course, if I don't come back within reasonable time you will
have cause to believe that I have been captured. Then the command of the
expedition devolves upon you, and it is for you to carry out the work
entrusted to us. Just launch that dinghy, quietly, my lads," he called
over the front of the cabin, "and see that there's a paddle in her."
Geoff began to grope in the cabin of the steam-launch, till his hand
presently lit upon the pannier containing dressings, which had been
handed over to them by the gallant Commander, whom they had left wounded
aboard the motor-boat.
"You may want it, lads," he had told them. "There is never any saying
when you may come up against the Turks, and, having had one brisk
little engagement with them, you may have another, and, of course, may
very well have some of the crew wounded. Of course, I hope that that
won't be the case, but you never know your luck. For that reason we'll
divide up the dressings, I taking sufficient for my own purposes while
you take enough for yours."
"Got it!" exclaimed Geoff, as his hand lit upon the pannier. "Now for a
pad of cotton-wool and a couple of bandages."
"Eh!" asked Philip curiously; "'Couple of bandages,'
'cotton-wool'--you're going aboard a steamer, now what in the name of
the dickens is that for?"
Geoff didn't tell him to mind his own business, for he was far too
polite a young fellow to give such an answer, neither did he speak to
his inquisitive chum gruffly even; instead, he maintained silence,
whilst he carefully picked out the bandages and the pad of cotton-wool.
Then Phil suddenly gripped him by the shoulder.
"I've got it!" he exclaimed.
"Got what?" asked Geoff curtly.
"Got it, of course," came the answer; "the bandages and the pad of
cotton-wool; the idea, my dear boy, the very smart and brilliant
brain-wave that's come to you. You're going to----"
"What?"
"What! Why of course the brain wave," Philip told him hotly. "I've
guessed your idea; you're going to get aboard that steamer, and just
because that old bounder of a Turk----"
"What old bounder of a Turk? The Captain?" asked Geoff. "He isn't old.
At least, how do we know that he's old? He may be young, middle-aged,
bald-headed and toothless."
The two of them were getting quite angry, and for a moment or two it
looked as though the wordy warfare in which they were beginning to be
engaged would develop into quite a battle. Then Geoff giggled--an
excited little giggle--while Phil joined his chum heartily, and brought
one hand down with a thump on the broad of his back.
"Jingo!" he exclaimed. "You're right, of course we don't know whether
the old bounder is young or old, or even toothless; but we do know that
there's a captain or an officer in charge of that steamer, and, what's
more, we know, what you want and didn't tell me, that we're going to
capture him."
"We're going to!" exclaimed Geoff. "I thought I'd already said, as the
officer commanding this expedition----"
"Ahem!" coughed Philip. "Certainly, sir, you did say that," he said in
his most demure manner. "But the job, if you'll allow me to say so, is
rather a big one--in short, and in fact, it's a 'tough nut' you propose
to crack, and in cracking it you're just as likely to come to grief
yourself, and possibly to have your head cracked. Indeed, as your
immediate junior, as one anxious for the success of this most important
expedition, it becomes my duty to point out that failure on your part,
failure because you have gone into the matter without sufficient forces
at your command, will lead inevitably to the ghastly failure of the
whole expedition. Once the alarm is given, once there is no longer the
chance of a surprise, in fact, once the Turks are on the qui vive, and
know what we are up to, the game's up, and we've lost! Nice to have to
return to the camp on the Shatt-el-Arab, and tell 'em that we've been a
hideous failure!"
He was piling it on with a vengeance, was Philip, but then he was an
artful, if light-hearted and jovial fellow, and here he had a most
distinct object in view. He plucked Geoff eagerly by the sleeve.
"Rotten, that!" he told him. "Just fancy what the fellows would say!
They'd not forget to tell us all about it, and make nasty remarks about
chaps with swollen heads who'd gone up the river on their own, thinking
to do a heap, and returning without carrying out their object, or even
nearly completing it. See?" he asked Geoff, with decided emphasis, and
repeated his demand as a movement of his chum seemed to denote some
signs of giving way. "Just think it over, Geoff! You go aboard the
steamer and creep along the deck till you come to the Captain's cabin.
Don't forget that you want the bounder to talk about the Turks and their
position, and just remember what I said when I suggested that he'd talk
on any and every subject rather than that. Well, aboard the steamer you
can't make him answer your questions, or launch out into an explanation
of the Turkish plans of campaign; so you decide to kidnap him, and have
the idea of plugging his mouth with that cotton-wool, and winding a
bandage about his head. Very pretty! Awfully nice if the thing works!
But will it? Supposing he shouts before you plug his toothless mouth--he
was toothless I think we agreed--supposing he's not alone, what then?
You're done! Your plan's defeated. You might just as well have stayed
aboard this launch and rested. But----"
"But if Phil--the eager Phil--happened to be close at hand, ready to
brain the other fellow. Ah!" exclaimed Geoff, and for the life of him he
couldn't help laughing at the excitement and the eager pleading of his
chum.
It made him laugh when he remembered how adroitly and how expertly
Philip had worked round the question, had pointed out so very clearly
the chances of failure, and then had come in at the end with the
greatest arguments for his own inclusion in the adventure. Arguments
which Geoff himself could not deny; for a friend at hand, a stanch
friend, might very well turn the scales in his favour, and, after all,
what a prize the Captain of that steamer would be, if they could only
lay their hands on him.
"Better far than the chief I bagged at the very beginning of the
campaign," he told himself, though he spoke aloud.
"Agreed!" said Philip. "I don't, of course, want to say that that wasn't
quite a nice little business, but then, this is really 'It', or will be
if we bring it off. So I come, don't I?"
"You do. Your revolver's loaded, eh?"
"And ready," Phil said, "and the dinghy is alongside."
"Then come on."
Leaving the oldest sailor in charge of the launch, with instructions to
lie in that position till morning came, and then to look about for them,
and to return down the Euphrates in the event of not discovering their
officers, Geoff and Philip crept gingerly into the dinghy, which had
been brought close alongside, having been launched from the deck of the
little steamer where it was usually carried.
"Push off," said Geoff, "and keep your ear open for a hail, for it'll be
no easy job to find you in the darkness."
"Aye, aye, sir," replied the man, "good luck to you."
Geoff dipped his paddle in the water, and thrust hard with it, while
Philip, seated in the stern, used a paddle as a rudder. Stealing along
the narrow channel in which the steam launch lay, they soon rounded the
end of one of the islands which formed it, and halted there for a while
to allow their eyes to grow accustomed to the darkness. Then they turned
sharp left, facing the direction in which the River Euphrates lay, and
stole onward across the waste of waters, threading their way between
muddy banks where the slime and ooze clung, and often diving under
perfect archways of reeds, where the islands were close together. Once
or twice they had to return on their tracks, finding their way
obstructed, and on one occasion they bumped gently into an island, and
stuck fast for a while, till Geoff came aft--thus tipping the bows of
the dinghy upward and so loosening her. It was perhaps half an hour
later that they felt, rather than saw, that they had gained the main
stream, the wide expanse of smooth, almost motionless water, where
eddies from the river sometimes stirred the surface, and where the flow,
moderately rapid in the centre, was so retarded as to be almost
imperceptible.
"Straight across," whispered Geoff, "there are the lights of the steamer
just up-river of us, so we'll cut across to the centre, where I reckon
her to be lying, and then steal up behind her. Gently with your paddle,
Phil, for a splash might attract the attention of a sentry and bring
rifle-fire upon us."
Another ten minutes passed, during which they plunged their paddles
gently though firmly into the stream, and forced the little boat
steadily upward, and during that time the dull, dimly visible hull of
the vessel lying out in mid-stream gradually grew bigger and bigger. At
length they were right under her stern, and found that, though low-built
in the centre, and indeed generally, she was yet well above their heads,
so much so that the dinghy lay close to the rudder and practically under
the stern of the vessel. It was just then that the end of a trailing
rope struck Phil gently across the face, and, groping for it, he had
soon seized upon it firmly.
"Half a mo'!" he told Geoff. "What's this? A rope, a rope to make our
boat fast to. Now I call that particularly accommodating of this old
party we've come to visit."
"What, eh?"
Geoff chuckled. It did him good to hear Philip's innocent banter, and
showed him also at the same time what an excellent fellow he had to
assist him.
"Make fast," he whispered. "Give a good haul on it first, though, and if
it's stout enough I'll make use of it to get aboard, though I imagine by
getting on your back I could easily reach the rail, and so the deck of
the steamer."
A minute later they had secured the dinghy to the rope, and the wise
Philip made fast the other end of it to a bolt-hole in the rudder, thus
keeping their little boat right under the stern of the steamer, where
she would remain unseen. Then Geoff gripped the rope which had been
dangling over the rail, and, putting all his weight on it to test it,
swung himself out of the dinghy and clambered up till he could grasp
the rail above. One strong heave and his face was above its level, and
he was able to look along the deck of the steamer. Then very slowly he
clambered upward, and slid on to the deck, where he crouched under the
rail to watch and listen.
Hark! There were voices somewhere. There was a light shining on the deck
on either side, through what appeared to be the skylight of a cabin,
while the voices, no doubt, came from that direction. But it was not
that alone which Geoff had heard, it was something else--the gentle
slap, slap of feet on the deck, the soft footfall of a man shod with
sandals perhaps, or more likely entirely unshod, perhaps a barefooted
sentry pacing the deck to and fro, turning when he had accomplished a
dozen paces. Geoff peered into the darkness, hoping to see the man, but
failed, though the sounds were still quite audible. Then he stole
forward till quite close to the cabin's skylight, where he hid behind a
mast in a dark corner between it and the bulkhead of the cabin. Yes, the
sounds made by that sentry--for if not a sentry what else could he
be?--were clearly audible, while the figure now came into view, feebly
outlined it is true yet quite sufficient for Geoff's purpose. There was
a Turk, perhaps a Turkish sailor, striding to and fro some twenty yards
farther forward, turning about each time he reached the rail, striding
this way and that like an automaton--as if indeed he were a clockwork
figure.
"Rather too near to be pleasant," thought Geoff, "and the bother of it
is that he makes it difficult for a fellow to peer into the cabin. Ah!
one of these sky-lights is lifted. It's been a hot day, and I've no
doubt it's stuffy down in the cabin. That's really very considerate of
our friend, the Captain, as Phil would say. Yes, voices--Turkish
voices--let's see what's happening."
He went on all fours, and stole along beside the cabin's skylight till
he came to the panel which was lifted. There was an opening, perhaps
some six inches in width, through which the light was streaming, and
also the voices of two men, at least, down in the cabin. But six inches
is hardly sufficient space to admit a head, and Geoff at once increased
the size of the opening by lifting the panel.
"Stop, there! Enough! It's cool enough below!" he heard someone exclaim
an instant later. "Idiot, leave the thing as it is now, and wait next
time till you are told to make an alteration."
By then Geoff was flat on the deck, listening to the voice so near to
him, and watching that sentry, that automaton, as he moved to and fro;
watching him and hoping that he would take no notice. Indeed, he need
hardly have worried himself, for the man did not even deign to turn his
head, but strolled on across his beat, his rifle now visible as it
thrust upward above his shoulder. For the life of him Geoff could not
help chuckling again, and repeating the words which Philip had used but
a few minutes earlier.
"A most accommodating sentry," he said. "If only he'll continue to march
to and fro without looking this way it'll give me a chance of peeping
into the cabin. Here goes! Oh! Three of 'em, eh! All officers, and, by
George, the chief of 'em is bald-headed, or I'm a Dutchman!"
How Philip would have laughed had he been beside his chum and
recollected their conversation aboard the steam-launch, for as Geoff
peered down into the cabin, his head screened to a certain extent from
the view of those below by the supports of the skylight, and by the
swinging oil-lamp which illuminated the interior, his eyes fell upon
three individuals--three Turkish officers--one of whom sat back in a
chair in the most dilettante attitude, smoking a cigarette; a young man
without doubt, handsome as the Turks go, but decidedly effeminate. Near
him was another officer, rather older, with a handsomely curled
moustache, who leaned both elbows on the cabin table and seemed to be
already nodding. And opposite the two, lounging full length on a divan,
was a stout broad-shouldered Pasha, a senior Turkish officer, whose fez
now reposed on the floor, exposing a head which shone and glistened in
the rays of the lamp-light. As to his being toothless, that was another
matter, though the memory of what had passed between himself and Philip,
once again caused Geoff to give vent to a silent chuckle.
"And so you think, my dear comrade, that this firing on the part of the
crew of the steam-launch resulted in the annihilation of a party of the
British, eh?" the elderly Turkish officer was asking, whilst he waved a
big, fat hand, upon which glistened many rings, in the direction of the
young officer at the head of the table.
"I do. To-morrow they will return with a fine tale of their doings. You
will discover, my chief, that you have been the means of stopping a
reconnoitring-force of the enemy ascending the Euphrates. It will be
good for you, good for me, good for us all."
They lapsed into silence for a while and then started on some other
topic. Indeed, though Geoff listened for the better part of quarter of
an hour, not once did they broach the subject of Turkish troops, nor
that of their position in these marsh lands about the Euphrates. It was
clear, in fact, that to stay where he was, risking discovery at any
moment, on the chance of such a question rising between the Turkish
officers below him, was madness, and that some other scheme must be
adopted to get at the information which he and Philip coveted. Lowering
his head, therefore, and making sure that the sentry had not discerned
him, Geoff crept on all fours across the deck, and, clambering over the
rail, dropped gently into the boat. And there for a while he and his
chum discussed the matter in low tones, making their plans so as to
accomplish their purpose.
It was half an hour later when Geoff led the way up over the rail again,
followed by Philip, and the two crept for'ard along the deck of the
steamer.
"There's the cabin," whispered Geoff, pointing to the skylight, "and
down below is the old boy we're bent on capturing. Just creep along and
look in, then come back at once, for we've no time to waste, and must
complete the business."