"May I go back to look for Strachan, sir, if you please?"
"Yes, Green," replied the colonel, "but take a file of men with you. I
think there are none of these fellows left about, but some of the
wounded may prove dangerous. Where did you last see him?"
"In the _melee_, sir, when the square was forced to retire. He was all
right then."
"And did no one see him after that?"
"No one that I can hear of, sir."
"Ah, poor lad! Well, we must hope he will turn up alive. A good
officer."
"Well, has the colonel given you leave to go?" asked Fitzgerald. "I
knew he would, but Stacy did not care to take the responsibility, for
fear anything should happen to you. You had better take a file of men
of my company; they knew him best. I wish I could go, but I have too
much to do. Of course, you will take a stretcher from the ambulance; it
will be probably useful for some other fellow, if not for poor Tom."
Directly Green had turned from Fitzgerald, a sergeant brought a man up
to him.
"James Gubbins wishes to speak to you, sir," he said, saluting.
"I beg your pardon, sir," said Gubbins when called upon to unfold his
wishes, "but I heerd say as you was a-going back over them hills to look
for Mr Strachan, sir."
"Yes, Gubbins, what then?" asked Green.
"Well, sir, might I ask to go too? He was very kind to me, and I was in
his ker--ker--company, sir;" and the man's voice faltered.
"Yes, Gubbins," replied Green, who appreciated perhaps more than others
the sentiment which animated the poor fellow, for he himself had been a
bit of a butt at first, and had been very grateful for Tom Strachan's
friendship. "I am to take two men of Captain Fitzgerald's company, and
you shall be one of them."
"Thank you kindly, sir."
"And pick another to go with him, will you, sergeant? A fellow with his
wits about him, you know."
He did not add "to make up for poor Gubbins's deficiency in that
respect," but that was what he meant, and so the sergeant understood
him.
"Let me see," he said, on rejoining his company; "his servant would be
the best man. Dodd! Has any one seen Dodd?"
"He was killed, sergeant, just when the gun was taken."
"Ah, yes, so he was. Who to send? No, Sims, my lad; it would not do to
have both idiots."
"I saw Mr Strachan last, from all I can make out," said another man;
"send me, sergeant."
"Ah, yes, Davis, you will do. Where was it though?"
"It was in the nullah, sergeant. One of the Johnnies got past my
bayonet, and tried to wrestle, but I got my rifle at the port, and
pushed it forward into his face, damaging the sights a little and
knocking him down. And at that moment another of them jumped on my
shoulders from a rock above, sending me sprawling on top of the chap I
had just floored. I wriggled round and saw t'other with his spear up a
couple of feet over my neck, when he tumbled over, and there was Mr
Strachan, with his sword well into the Johnny's stomach. I jumped up,
and had no time to thank him, or see where he went. We was too busy."
"All right, you go at once with Gubbins to Mr Green; he is speaking to
the major, yonder. And hark! both of you. If you see an Arab lying
like dead, with a weapon of any sort in his hand, run your bayonet
through him first, and ask him if he is alive afterwards, for we have
lost too many men as it is, and the duties will come heavy. Right-about
turn; quick march!"
"Well, good luck go with you," Major Elmfoot was saying, as Green
started. "But I fear that he must be dead, or the ambulance would have
found him and brought him in."
"I wish they would not talk like that," thought Green, as he went off,
followed by his two men. "Everybody speaks of poor Tom in the past
tense, from the colonel to Gubbins. I won't believe that he is dead
till I see it; as for the ambulance, they have had plenty of work, and
might easily miss him, if he is senseless, and unable to call out."
He went round to the Field Hospital, where the surgeons were busy at
work, and applied for a stretcher. But he was told it was unnecessary
to take one, there were several about the fatal spot where the hard
fighting had taken place, and two others which had just brought in their
blood-stained burdens were going back presently.
So the three went on their way unencumbered.
It was perfectly calm and still; the sun was getting low in the west,
but its rays, though not so scorching as at mid-day, were sickening, and
productive of extreme lassitude. On the first low range of hills they
crossed the bodies were not numerous, and down in the valley at the foot
of them they only came upon one group. A knot of Arabs retreating to
their last position had evidently been overtaken by a shell bursting in
their midst, and their fearfully mangled bodies showed what modern
science can effect when applied in earnest to the work of war. On the
next ridge the Soudanese dead lay thicker; lying dotted about singly
where the Martini-Henry bullets had stopped them, or strewed in rows
like the corn sheaves where the reaping machine has passed, as the
Gatling guns, sweeping slowly from right to left, and pouring missiles
with the regularity and continuous stream of a fire-engine, had mowed
their ranks.
"I say, Gubbins," said Davis, "we fought fairly well to-day I reckon;
but do you think we should have stood against such a fire as that?"
"Well, I don't know," replied Gubbins. "If there had been any cover
near I, for one, should have felt uncommon inclined to make for it. I
can't abide them shells and machine-guns."
"No, it seems like fighting against lightning and thunderbolts, don't
it?" said Davis.
But as this was an idea which required some cogitation and digesting
before it could become assimilated in the Gubbins' mind, it remained
without reply.
As they approached the edge of the nullah the harvest of Soudanese lay
thicker and thicker, and when they got down into the dry bed of the
watercourse, they had to pick their way in places to avoid treading on
the corpses.
And here, for the first time, English dead lay intermingled with the
Arab. There was peace between them now.
"Look carefully here," said Green, turning over a kharkee-clad body
which lay on its face as he spoke: it was not his friend.
"Ah, would yer!" cried Davis, presently; and there was a gasp and a cry,
which might be rage or pain, as he thrust his bayonet into an Arab who,
though his legs were shattered, made a cut at him with his sword as he
passed. And Davis was as tender-hearted a man as ever stepped; liked
playing with children; petted dogs, cats, and birds; and would risk his
own life to save that of another, though a perfect stranger. He had
proved it, and had the right to wear the medal of the Royal Humane
Society on his right breast. But circumstances are too strong for all
of us.
The search was long and ineffective.
"You are certain it was in the nullah that Mr Strachan killed the Arab
who was on the top of you?" Green asked Davis.
"Certain, sir; and that rock I showed you was the one the Johnny jumped
off, I am pretty sure; though there's such a many of them, and they are
so like, I wouldn't swear."
"And you had not leisure to look very particularly. But still, though
you saw him here, he may have gone back for some of his men, for in
dodging the enemy round stones and bushes they got scattered a bit. We
had better go over the ground where we were so hard at it."
So they clambered up the further bank of the nullah, and stood again on
the ground over which they had advanced, been driven back, and advanced
again in the morning. Here the Soudanese lay in hundreds, piled up in
places in heaps, three or even four deep, one on the top of another.
And here too the English dead were terribly thick. But the ambulance
had been at work for some hours, and all who had life in them were
removed, while many of the dead had been withdrawn from the mingled
heaps, and laid decently side by side, and apart.
Green saw that this acre of the Aceldama had been, or was being,
thoroughly explored, and he returned to the nullah, where the three
continued their search, examining now the outlying crevices and bushes,
where individual men, stricken to death, had crawled away; or the
pursuing English, observing skulking foes, had spread to clear them out,
and prevent being fired upon from the rear after they had passed; and
searching in this manner they got separated.
Where could poor Tom Strachan have got to? The sun was sinking fast,
there would not be much more daylight, and if he were not found soon he
might be left without help all night. For Green would not think of him
as dead, and no more for that matter did Gubbins, though Davis had given
up all hope long ago. But he did not say so.
Walking up the nullah a bit to the right, Green came to the foot of a
huge mass of black rock about twelve feet high, and he thought that from
the top of that he might get a more extended view of the bed of the
nullah, and perhaps discern some hollow which had not yet been explored.
The climbing was not difficult, and he soon sprang up. There were
smaller boulders on the little plateau, and a mimosa bush, and an
English officer lying on his back, with his arms extended, and his sword
attached to his right wrist.
Green ran to his side; it was the object of his search--Tom Strachan.
"Dead!" he cried. "Poor old Tom; dead after all!"
He knelt down and took his left arm up in order to get nearer to his
body, to feel if there was warmth in it.
The arm was limp, not stiff; the fingers had been cut by some sharp
weapon, and when stirred, blood dropped from them. These signs gave
Green fresh hope, and loosening the kharkee, he thrust his hand into his
breast. Certainly there was warmth!
He raised the body a little, propping the shoulders against a stone, and
taking out a flask he had brought for the purpose, he poured a little
brandy into the mouth. It was swallowed. He gave him more, and
presently he moved his lips and eyelids.
His first fear over, Green examined him more closely, and found that his
clothes were saturated with blood from a broad wound, no doubt a spear-
thrust, in the right side. Surgeons were not far, and immediate
assistance might be everything, so he rose and went to the edge of the
rock to call Davis or Gubbins, who must be within reach of his voice.
Shouting their names, he passed close to the mimosa bush, from the cover
of which a man, with tangled locks and glaring eyes, and naked, but for
a waist-cloth, sprang out upon him like a wild cat.
He had lost or broken his weapons, but he clasped the young officer in
his arms, and bore him to the ground, and then, searching for his throat
with his hands, sought to throttle him, while Green, keeping his chin
down to his chest, and dragging at his hands, strove to prevent his
design.
The movement was so sudden that he never suspected the Arab's presence
till he was on him. The savage wrenched his left arm free; Green upon
this got his right-hand down, and managed to clutch his revolver; and
just as his enemy's fingers forced their way under his chin to his
throat, he put the muzzle to his head and pulled the trigger.
His helmet having fallen off in the struggle, his own hair was singed by
the explosion, but he was free; the Arab rolled away from him, his head
shattered--a gruesome spectacle.
Just as Green got to his feet again, his two men appeared on the rock.
They had heard him call, and the voice had guided them in that
direction; and while they were hesitating the pistol-shot told them
exactly where their officer was.
"He is up here, and alive," said Green. "Run, one of you--you, Davis--
to the place where we saw the doctors and stretchers, and tell them.
Take good note of this spot, that you may not miss it. But I don't
think they are a thousand yards off."
"I shall know it, sir," said Davis, and he disappeared over the side of
the rock.
Green was now once more by Strachan's side, and with Gubbins' help got
him into a more comfortable position. The spear-head which had wounded
him, with a couple of feet of the shaft, lay close by, as if he had
pulled it out before losing consciousness. The rest of the shaft also
lay near, half cut through, half broken, close to the edge of the rock,
and underneath that spot, at the foot of the crag, was the body of an
Arab--head amongst the large stones, feet and legs uppermost--resting on
the steep side.
Probably it was the man who had speared Strachan, his weapon, previously
hacked nearly through, breaking with the thrust. And one of the
soldiers storming the rock had shot him as he was making off. As for
the disarmed man who had attacked Green, he had probably taken refuge up
there after the tide of battle had swept past, intending to escape at
nightfall, but the sight of a foe so close was too tempting for his
prudence.
All this, however, is only conjecture; the certain fact was that poor
Tom Strachan had a wide wound in the side, and that Green dared not move
him much, because it made the life-stream well out afresh. There was
nothing for it but to wait till medical aid arrived.
It is surprising what trivial ideas and memories, such as tags of old
songs, or anecdotes more or less appropriate to the occasion, will run
in our heads when we are anxious about anything, and are forced to
remain in inactivity. All the time certain lines of Sir Walter Scott
would worry Green, as he knelt there by his friend:
"That spear wound has our master sped;
And see the deep cut on his head.
Good-night to Marmion."
Over and over and over again rang the lines, till Strachan himself
dissipated them by moving his hand and murmuring. It was evident that
what he wanted was water, and so Green put his gourd to his mouth, and
after a refreshing draught, consciousness returned to the wounded man's
eyes.
Then Green gently disengaged the sword-knot from his wrist, and,
unbuckling his belt, returned the weapon to its scabbard, not without
having to wipe it first.
Strachan made a movement of his hand again towards it, evidently knowing
that something was taken from him. But Green showed him the sword, and
said, "It is all right, I am only wiping it for you;" and the other was
placid again immediately, and closed his eyes.
It was not long before the surgeon came, and they got Strachan's kharkee
jacket off, and bandaged him up.
"He has lost a lot of blood," said the surgeon, "and that is why he
fainted, probably."
"Will it kill him?"
"Not necessarily at all. It is a nice clean wound, and all depends upon
how far it has penetrated. Of course, a man cannot have a sharp
instrument thrust into his body without some danger to the vital organs.
The pressing matter, however, is how to lower him from this. I have
got a stretcher at the bottom all right, but the sides of this rock are
pretty steep for a badly wounded man to get down."
"Yes," said Green.
"But I have examined carefully all round it, and this is the best
place."
And he indicated a corner where there were ledges which formed steps;
and here they carried Tom Strachan, and lowered him as gently and
carefully as might be.
They could not avoid a jolt or two, which elicited a moan; but it was
not far to the bottom, and there was the stretcher. Just as they had
managed to get him settled the sun sank, and it was amidst the usual
display of orange, crimson, and purple fireworks that they picked their
way amongst the corpses which strewed the nullah. It was another job to
carry their burden up the steep sides of this, but they managed it
before darkness settled down on the battle-field.
At the other side, however, they were soon forced to halt, and wait for
the rising of the moon. She was up, but had not appeared over the hills
yet, and the ground where they were was in such deep shadow that the
bearers could not go a dozen yards without stumbling either over a dead
body or the inequalities of the surface. It was a weird thing to wait
there in the gloom in the midst of those who had been so full of life
and vigour in the morning, and were now as motionless, senseless, as the
boulders amongst which they were scattered.
While waiting thus, they fancied they saw several dark figures gliding
by them, and Green held his revolver ready, thinking that live Arabs
were still prowling around, or taking advantage of the darkness to
escape from the nooks where they had lain concealed. Presently,
however, the moon topped the higher ground, and he saw one of these
moving forms more distinctly, and perceived that it was a four-footed
animal, not a biped. Probably they were beasts of prey stealing to the
scene of carnage. It takes a good deal of the gilt off glory that the
foulest beasts and birds should fake heroes for carrion. And yet, after
all, this is a superficial way of looking at it, for it is the qualities
of the mind--courage, endurance, patriotism, loyalty, fidelity to
comrades--which make the hero, and the soul is beyond the reach of
vulture or jackal. As for the mere body without it, it is of no more
value than an empty champagne bottle. When there was light enough they
went on again, and in due time reached the ambulance. And Green, having
seen his friend made as comfortable as was possible under the
circumstances, returned to the bivouac of the regiment, where everybody
was glad to hear that Tom Strachan was found alive, and that there was a
good chance for him, for his good humour and high spirits had made him a
general favourite.
"Do you know, Green, you have done a very fine thing?" said the colonel.
"If you had not found Strachan this evening he would have been dead in
all probability before morning. And you found him very cleverly."
And Green felt as good all over at this praise as if he had been
mentioned in despatches.
The battle of Tamai was the end of the campaign. Some folk said the
troops should have taken advantage of the rout and dispersion of Osman
Digna's tribes to march across to Berber on the Nile, and then Khartoum
would have been relieved without any further fuss. Other people, who
had equally good means of judging, scorned this idea, and were certain
that had such a thing been attempted every man of the expedition would
have perished.
If the latter people were right, the authorities acted wisely; if the
former had reason on their side, they acted foolishly. But as to which
is which, it would be very rash for any one who does not know all the
ins and outs, and has not the evidence which influenced those who had to
decide, before him, to give an opinion. Anyhow, the expedition returned
to Suakim, and the majority of the troops sailed away for different
places. And Osman Digna had time to gather fresh fanatics together, and
the Soudanese recovered from the shock to their superstition and
conviction of invincibility which the hecatombs of slaughter had given
them, and were soon ready to fight again.
And Tom Strachan was not so very badly hurt, but was soon able to be
taken home to England to be nursed, and rejoined his regiment in six
months.